


Family Album

by SiZodiac



Series: To Carry the Charlotte Name [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Complicated Friendships, Complicated Relationships, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Gen, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiZodiac/pseuds/SiZodiac
Summary: Charlotte family collection, independent stories in non-chronological order.Ch1. Mont-d’Or had a dream, to go to the West Blue. A dream just beyond the Calm Belt. (Mont-d’Or, Galette, Cracker)Ch2. This was a fairytale, of a beautiful storybook princess. (Praline, Katakuri, Oven)Ch3. Katakuri learned the value of friendship. It was a harsh lesson. (Katakuri, Mozart, Marnier)Ch4. Daifuku and Amande were the first son and first daughter to marry without freedom. Love, too simple yet too complicated. (Daifuku, Amande, Mascarpone, Joscarpone)Ch5. Every once in a while, a Charlotte child would grow up with torn mouth full of sharp canine fangs. It must be a recessive family gene. (Basskarte, Poire, Nougat, Katakuri)Ch6. Moscato was always a boy. He sought to fix the mistake Mama made by giving him the wrong body. (Moscato, Perospero, Compote)Ch7. Twenty-two sets of multiple births, six sets of identical siblings. Who said all of them were born healthy? (Newsan, Newshi, Tablet, Oven)Ch8. For the youngest generation, a pretty face could worth more than combat capability. This was how the bisque dolls were made. (Raisin, Panna, Pudding)





	1. Pages (Mont-d’Or)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Family Album 家庭相冊 (書頁-蒙多爾)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081287) by [fakescorpion (SiZodiac)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiZodiac/pseuds/fakescorpion), [SiZodiac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiZodiac/pseuds/SiZodiac)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mont-d’Or had a dream, to go to the West Blue. A dream just beyond the Calm Belt.
> 
> featuring:  
> Mont-d’Or, Galette, Cracker

**Pages (Mont-d’Or)**

~ 22 years ago ~  
Mont-d’Or (age 16)

There was no wind in the Calm Belt, no waves. Brother Cracker’s battleship sliced through the still water on silent candy-coated paddles, its engine noise muffled by marshmallows. Sixteen-year-old Charlotte Mont-d’Or leaned on the railing and dreamed of his destination at the end of the voyage.

.

Mont-d’Or had always been an oddity amongst the numerous Charlotte siblings. He was pale and small, all uncoordinated gangling limbs and brittle bones. He hated violence and prefer to shy away from physical exertion. Personality wise he was prone to run his mouth and easy to anger, but unfortunately without the strength to back up said quick temper. As a result he was bullied a lot as a kid, often sporting blossoming bruises in blue and purple. To add insult to injury, his tormentors were usually family members around or even younger than his age group, which was rather sad and pathetic on his own part.

Some of his older brothers and sisters would step in when things got too bad, especially Brother Katakuri who often worried, but the majority of them had duties as ministers and entire islands to govern. They could not always be there to watch after a single troublesome child.

To escape the perpetual problems of his daily life, Mont-d’Or found refuge within the gigantic Chateau Library. There, he discovered the nature of his true talent. Books and artistry, though useless as it might seem on the high seas. Mont-d’Or memorized the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia and read through recipe books from over seventy different countries. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge cake about unique plants and exotic animals from across the globe, and he taught himself how to draw. He was happy.

“Hey, Come quick, Poire! Mont-d’Or is in the library again!” Galette’s high-pitched voice shouted, echoing down the hall. Mont-d’Or groaned.

The twins Galette and Poire were eight years younger than him but were both belligerently outgoing, and they constantly made his life a living hell. Especially Galette. She pushed Mont-d’Or onto his butt and ripped the book he was currently reading from his hands. “Stop being such a nerd, Monty.”

“Give it back, Galette!” Mont-d’Or yelled.

Galette ignored him, throwing the book to Poire. The younger twin then threw it to Citron, who was attracted to the library due to the loud commotion with Cinnamon in tow. Mont-d’Or wanted to cry. The half-longleg triplets were three years his junior and were already absurdly tall even at their youthful age, and of the three triplet girls only Smoothie ever showed him any compassion. Unfortunately for Mont-d’Or, Smoothie wasn’t there, so that probably meant he was never getting his research studies back.

Citron flipped the book over to read the front cover. “West Blue: Notable Locations and Recent History,” she looked down at her small older brother, who could barely reach her waist. “That sounds dreadfully boring, even by your standards, pipsqueak.”

“Then give it back, Citron! I’m your older brother, where’s my respect?”

Cinnamon took the book from her sister. She giggled. “Why are you reading this crap anyway? West Blue is like, on the other side of the world.”

Mont-d’Or fumed, indignant. He had his reasons, it was just not yet the time to share.

.

When Mont-d’Or was fourteen years old, Gold Roger’s execution was known throughout Whole Cake Island. That night, Mont-d’Or snuck into Mama’s treasury and stared at the blood-red Road Poneglyph until images of its intrinsic meaningless carving forever etched into his mind. He thought of the man who could somehow decipher its secret, and the elusive island hidden behind these symbols.

So for over a year he researched, painstakingly digging through the large archives of the Chateau Library for any related information. Then on his sixteenth birthday, Mont-d’Or cornered Brother Perospero at the tea party and requested for a very specific gift. A ship and a crew capable of traveling across the perilous Calm Belt, to reach the West Blue beyond.

“I want to become a scholar of Ohara,” Mont-d’Or told his eldest brother. “That is what Mama would need still, for her to become the next Pirate King.”

Brother Perospero took him to see Mama the very next day. A week later, Mont-d’Or had a ship and a crew, and the younger of the only two Sweet Commanders assigned as his personal escort.

Charlotte Cracker was twenty-three and the third strongest fighter within Mama’s growing empire at the time. He was flighty and maybe not always reliable, but he understood his priorities. For faster travel through the dangerous Calm Belt, Cracker handpicked a small crew of only a dozen men and women to board his customized battleship. If he needed more hands he could create for himself.

“Are you ready, little brother?” Cracker smirked at the much smaller teen, a hand placed firmly on his thin shoulder. He knew his introvert little brother hadn’t been out to sea since their family first settled on this island thirteen years ago. “Hopefully you won’t be seasick.”

Mont-d’Or swallowed, already trembling in his shoes. For fear or excitement he did not know. He was about to take the initial step onto the ship, when disturbance sounded from the gathering crowd. Smoothie showed up, using her towering height to push people gently aside, before crouching down to give Mont-d’Or a tight embrace.

“I will be here waiting for your safe return,” Smoothie said earnestly. “Take care, big brother.” Mont-d’Or hugged her back. Of all the siblings within his age group, he would definitely miss Smoothie the most.

Once everyone boarded the battleship, Brother Cracker gave out the order to pull the anchor. They were ready to set sail. That was when a furry pink ball of energetic child leaped from the shore, with a perfect landing, and balanced herself precariously on the ship taffrail. It was Galette.

“I want to come, too,” Galette declared.

“No, you can’t!” Mont-d’Or cried, pulling at his messy hair in frustration. He wanted to leave his troubles behind, not to have his most annoying trouble follow him around the world.

They both looked to Brother Cracker, who had the ultimate say. Unfortunately for Mont-d’Or, too many older brothers within the Charlotte family had the tendency to be particularly weak to little sisters’ petulant pleas. Galette knew this, so she immediately puckered her lips and pouted. “Crybaby Monty gets to come, so why can’t I?”

Cracker almost caved instantly, but he forced himself to first think it through, doing a quick calculation in his head. A week to travel through the Calm Belt and another to reach the island of Ohara, he would in theory be able to return home with Galette within a month. “Okay fine, princess,” Cracker relented. “But you have to behave and follow my instructions, understood? Brother Katakuri would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

“Yay!” Galette threw up her hands happily. Mont-d’Or groaned.

.

They were attacked by a seaking much larger than any they had previously encountered during the final stretch of their trip through the Calm Belt. Its size easily twentyfold of their battleship, with massive fins that caused tidal waves and a ballooned head that blocked out the sun.

Cracker put his younger siblings into a suit of biscuit armor and ordered men into battle, but their cannon fire bounced harmlessly off the seaking’s gleaming scales. From within the biscuit soldier, Mont-d’Or quivered like a leaf. Galette touched him on the arm, but for once her confidence wavered. “Brother Cracker is strong,” Galette said, but she could not fully hide the uncertainty in her tone.

As if hearing their apprehension from across the deck, Cracker threw his younger siblings a devious grin. He then leaped from the tallest mast on the ship to land upon the seaking’s torso section, a writhing mass half-submerged in the foaming tides. This was the first time Mont-d’Or and Galette ever seen Brother Cracker fought seriously, and he was magnificent.

Cracker ran along the seaking’s length with astonishing speed, fleet-footed jumping to keep himself carefully above water even as the creature thrash and twist. Dozens and dozens of biscuit soldiers were summoned, like ants crawling all over the seaking, and together they dealt puncture wounds with their swords all over the serpentine body. Cracker himself reached the creature’s ballooned head and with his haki hardened black Pretzel sword, gouged out its eyes and hacked off a pectoral fin. This was the power of Commander Cracker, who proved that even ants could take down a titan with a thousand small cuts.

When the seaking began to sink on its deathbed, the battleship had already been pushed some distance away, too far for Cracker to reach. The ocean was an unforgiving reaper for devil fruit users. If he fell, it would be his end.

Mont-d’Or and Galette had scrambled out of the protective armor by then, and were screaming for their big brother from the ship stern with fear in their eyes. So Cracker, with a clap of his hands, performed his last magic trick for his little brother and sister to enjoy.

He leaped into the sea...

... and promptly stepped onto a floating biscuit platform.

As the biscuit itself began to flood, Cracker leaped again, throwing himself into the air, purple half-cape billowing, before clapping his hands once. Like skipping stones on water, he made his way back onto the battleship. Sweet Commander Cracker of the Big Mom Pirates was among the very few devil fruit user who could traverse water, and would not sink.

.

They reached West Blue without losing a single crew member, which was a fine accomplishment, but not without bad news. The last seaking attack severely damaged their paddle-muffling system, that a return trip through the Calm Belt would be imprudent. Cracker might be willing to brave the chances if it was any other time accompanied only by an expendable crew, but with two of his precious younger siblings on board, it was a risk he would rather not take.

Den-Den Mushi telecommunication was strictly restricted as they crossed the seaking nest, to avoid attracting unwanted attention from down under. Now that they had arrived on the other side, Cracker would need to report back to Mama and his older siblings, to both inform of their safe voyage and update on their current less-than-ideal vessel situation.

Mont-d’Or at the moment was scouting the sky. News Coo did not travel to the Calm Belt, and for someone like Mont-d’Or, a week away from current news was a week too long. Soon enough, a medium-sized white bird approached their ship.

Mont-d’Or did not know the carrier seagull would bring him the most devastating headline of his life.

.

“Ohara, is _gone_.”

Mont-d’Or felt dead inside.

He lay on his back, on deck, eyes staring vacantly up at the empty cloudless sky. It had been three days. The ocean was tranquil, the wind was merciful, and the scenery was boring. The Big Mom Commander battleship drifted along the West Blue with no clear destination in mind.

Galette came to sit by her brother. Her gaze, too, turned upwards. “You haven’t eaten for days,” she said. She nudged Mont-d’Or with her foot, but received no reaction. “Brother Cracker is worried.”

“... Ohara is gone,” Mont-d’Or said, blankly.

Galette sighed. She twirled at her short fuchsia curls with a slender finger, resigned.

Brother Cracker came up from the lower galley, to join his younger siblings on the open quarterdeck. “I’ve contacted home,” Cracker announced, voice sounding disturbingly loud due to the depressing atmosphere. He crossed his long legs and sat down on his little brother’s other side. “Brother Peros agrees it would be too risky to cross the Calm Belt in our current state, so I’ll be taking you two through Reverse Mountain and Fishman Island. We could check out what Paradise is like. It’ll take a much longer time though.”

“Mama agrees, also?” Galette asked, uncertain.

Cracker shrugged. “Brother Katakuri would convince her, somehow.”

Galette nodded slowly. “Have you ever been to Paradise, Brother Cracker?”

“Nope. It will be an adventure for all of us. Sounds like fun, hmmm?”

The two conversing siblings looked to the boy between them, but Mont-d’Or still remained completely unresponsive. Cracker ran a hand through his violet hair, pulling his wild hairstyle loose. “I’ll have to get a Log Pose. We would also need to stock up on fresh water soon, and food,” Cracker said. He clapped his hands, pulling a biscuit from thin air and took a bite. “Unless you’re willing to eat nothing but biscuits for the next month.”

Galette buried her face into her arms. “I want buckwheat flour pancake, with peach and blackberry filling,” she mumbled. “Monty would probably want brie cheese with cream.”

Cracker looked to his younger brother. “Is that right, Mont-d’Or?”

“... but Ohara.”

The older Charlotte brother let out a patient huff. “Well, we could still go. To the island of Ohara, I mean,” Cracker offered gently. “Not sure what we’re going to find there apart from dead bodies, but if you needed some form of closure...”

Mont-d’Or blinked.

“Do you want to go?”

“... yes.”

.

So they went to Ohara. Or, whatever was left of the island of Ohara.

Brother Cracker was right. There were a lot of dead bodies, bombed down buildings, and—to the pirates’ bewildered surprise—skeletal debris of several marine warships floating along the coastline that required skill to navigate around. Mont-d’Or was at a loss.

The newspaper claimed an eight-year-old girl escaped Ohara by destroying six navy ships. Cracker called absolute bullshit on that of course, because even a monster like Brother Katakuri would stress to manage one single warship when he was eight. There was just no way some little girl from a scholar island could do six. Yet the girl’s abnormally high bounty was real, the destroyed warships were apparently also real, and everything had the dirty taste of government conspiracy beyond their simple understanding.

As the three Charlotte siblings made their slow course inland towards the famous tree, they encountered a couple straggling marine foot soldiers who didn’t have enough sense to run when they saw Mama’s pirate flag. Cracker made sure they wouldn’t cause a problem.

At the center of the island was the charred remnant of the Tree of Knowledge, and a deep lake filled nearly to the brim with books. Mont-d’Or sat down by the steep ledge of the lake, knowing his journey had come to an end. His dream died here, by this cliff, on an island erased from the world map.

Galette looked at her brothers, then turned to inspect the weird book lake. She contemplated, before coming to a decision. She took off her fur coat and red dress, stripping down to her frilly underwear.

“What are you doing!” Cracker exclaimed. Before he could stop her, Galette jumped, diving into the lake with a wet splash. “Galette!”

“I’m fine, Brother Cracker!” Galette called, waving from the water so far down below. “I want to find something, wait for me!”

So Galette swam, away from the safety of the lakefront, before dipping into the water to begin her search. With Brother Cracker as a devil fruit user and Brother Mont-d’Or as the most useless big brother ever, Galette knew this was something only she could do. She was going to find a souvenir, a memento to prove that the island of Ohara always existed.

It was... a lot harder than she thought. Galette rummaged through stacks and stacks of books underwater until her air ran out and she had to resurface before repeating the process, but nothing of significance caught her eye. Her brothers were getting anxious back on shore because the sun was low near the horizon, and Galette was beginning to fatigue. Or perhaps she could just take the next book she find? So Galette reached out in a random direction and grabbed something from the middle of a tall pile, books and scrolls tumbled. Having gotten what she came for, Galette turned towards the shimmering surface, when a sudden soft clinking of metal drew her attention.

There was a wooden box with rusty broken lock half buried under the fallen pile. Curiosity piqued, Galette dived one last time to check it out.

Galette swam back to her brothers half an hour later. The cliff was too precipitous for her to scale, so Brother Cracker first created a biscuit platform for her to climb onto before leaping down himself to carry her up. And then Galette, half-naked and dripping wet from head to toe, walked up to Mont-d’Or and held out her arms.

“Happy belated sixteenth birthday, big brother,” Galette said. There in her hands rested a book titled SUSPENSE and a fruit that her nerd brother immediately recognized. It was also the first time Galette ever addressed him with an honorific.

Finally, since that damned seagull, Mont-d’Or cried.

.

It took over two weeks to reach the Ohara remains in West Blue from the Tottoland archipelago via the Calm Belt. The return trip took almost three years, for they had to travel the long route home.

During this time Brother Cracker’s bounty almost tripled, breaking the five hundred million mark. He became a man widely feared as someone who could spawn an unending army, who could quite literally command a thousand arms. Though the incompetent government were still unable to identify his true visage.

Mont-d’Or grew up significantly in these years, finally reaching his growth spurt and got up over two meters tall. He learned how to properly shoot a rifle at the age of sixteen, first killed at the age of seventeen, and became a wanted man at the age of eighteen with a bounty of forty-six million on his head. It raised to eighty-six million by the time they reached Sabaody. He was given the epithet ‘Scribe’ Mont-d’Or, who kept the book that held numerous exotic creatures and people alike forever hostage.

After Ohara and the fruit and a couple more near-death experiences later, Mont-d’Or learned to care for Galette like all other adept Charlotte older brothers—aggressively overprotective yet easily tolerant. They became inseparable, both as close friends and as siblings.

.

When they finally returned home, Smoothie welcomed them at the port as promised, as the newly assigned Sweet Commander. She was taller than even Brother Cracker now when three years ago she fell a bit shorter, and a formidable fighter already at the tender age of fifteen. Galette and Poire had an emotional reunion, sharing tearful hugs for having been apart from each other for so long. Brother Katakuri also showed up, to greet Cracker personally with a heartfelt half-embrace and a congratulation on his job well-done. They were all taken to meet their newest siblings one-year-old Panna in the playroom, and the baby twins Mascarpone and Joscarpone in the nursery.

As a gift and an apology for his failure, Mont-d’Or gave his Mama a book that she would always cherish, the first of her eventual collection.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buku-Buku Fruit, the Book Fruit, was stored and forgotten in an old wooden box in the Tree of Knowledge. It was thrown into the lake with everything else when Buster Call happened.


	2. Table of Contents (Praline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a fairytale, of a beautiful storybook princess.
> 
> featuring:  
> Praline, Katakuri, Oven

**Table of Contents (Praline)**

Thirty years ago from the present day was where this particular tale began.

At this period in time, the overtly idealistic utopia that would be Tottoland was in the early years of establishment and Sweet City only very recently received its name. Edward Newgate was yet to be acknowledged as the strongest man ‘Whitebeard’ and a compassionate future Emperor, so for the fishmen and merfolks of Fishman Island, there were no true safe haven anywhere in the world.

It was also before the underworld broker Joker set up shop in Sabaody Archipelago, thus the most famous human trafficking auction house during this time was located in the New World, on the island of Risky Red. An islet that changed climatic seasons between summer and autumn triannually, with a relatively stable magnetic field and weather, named for the wondrous local plant life with year-round red autumn leaves that would randomly caught fire during the high heat of summer. It was a popular convergent place for pirates leaving Fishman Island both to socialize and to pawn their captures, of which there were too many.

Prim and Praline would never know this, but their births were the result of this centuries-old racial atrocity. Their father was one among such captures, a handsome larger-sized merman stolen from home, bought and sold as slave, who caught Charlotte Linlin’s fancy and was raped repeatedly on their marriage bed.

This was a romantic fairytale that began with tragedy and an absence of love, of a beautiful storybook princess who was kind, and how sometimes destiny would work miracles to unite star-crossed lovers in the most unexpected ways.

.

~ 26 years ago ~  
Katakuri (age 22), Praline (age 3)

The celebrated births of Prim and Praline was when Tottoland as a whole began to first recognize the racial discrimination problem that was quite prevalent throughout the rest of the world. The youngest princesses of their ruling house was half-merfolks, Prim had eight squishy legs of an octopus and Praline with the tail fins of a hammerhead shark. They both had fangs.

Too soon it became a serious family issue as the twin girls grew up and started to gradually realize how different they were from everyone else. They were three years old now, and they whined and cried, throwing food at their older siblings and bit off their nanny’s fingers with sharp teeth. Prim and Praline were perhaps somewhat entitled in their young age due to their prestigious surname within the newly founded country, and they demanded loudly to play with people who looked exactly like them. They wanted it _now_ , so why weren’t their older brothers and sisters giving it to them!

“What are we going to do?” Oven bemoaned, escaping out of the manor playroom with his face full of sticky chocolate truffle and cocoa powder. Katakuri already had napkins ready in hand, fueling Oven’s unshakable belief that his eldest triplet brother was in fact psychic now, since facing down Prometheus and Zeus the previous year. Oven took the napkins to wipe his face, about to speak.

“I’ve told you,” Katakuri interrupted, “I can’t read minds. My observation haki just allows me to perceive a few seconds into the future.”

Oven raised a hand.

“No, it doesn’t make me psychic.”

That did nothing to change Oven’s mind. Katakuri though was not interested in continuing this topic, so he gestured to his little brother’s overall disheveled appearance. “I guess Prim isn’t too happy to see your very human face?”

“Obviously,” Oven grumbled. It was a shame really, since the fraternal triplets were becoming increasingly busy in the recent years, free time to spend with their younger siblings were getting frustratingly scarce. There were currently five members within their family assigned as ministers to govern independent islands within the Tottoland empire, Katakuri among them as Minister of Flour, and with the rate the country was expanding it wouldn’t be too long before Oven landed minister duty himself with a town under his name.

Katakuri took out his pocket watch to check the time, quarter past three in the afternoon. He sighed. Katakuri only visited Whole Cake Island that day due to an appointment meeting on monthly isle trade with Sister Compote. Oven had seized this chance to drag him to the playroom for the day’s merienda, because they needed more quality family time together, but apparently neither of them were getting any food into their stomachs unless they find a way to pacify their little sisters’ temper.

“So, any idea on what to do?” Oven scratched his chin, feeling the beginning of a stubble. “There weren’t any merfolks in the country as far as I know, how are we supposed to get them one to play with?”

“Easiest solution would be to pay a visit to Risky Red,” Katakuri answered thoughtfully.

“What. You mean buy one?”

“I’m not letting some random guy near our baby sisters though.”

Oven looked at Katakuri, then let out a bark of laughter. “Sure, sure. But we need something a little faster than that.”

Katakuri hummed, “I have an idea. Give me twenty minutes.” Oven gave him a dubious look as he walk into the playroom, closing the large mahogany door behind him.

Praline was curled into the farthest corner of the room, and she was crying. Prim was beside her, running fingers soothingly through her younger sister’s messy hair. When Prim heard the sound of the door opening, she immediately turned with an angry look in her eyes. She used her octopus leg to pick up a banana muffin, chucking it at their unwanted intruder. “I told you to go away! Leave us alone!”

Katakuri avoided the pastry without problem, and took a seat on the floor a respectable distance away. “Care to tell me what happened?”

“Not your business,” Prim stuck out her tongue childishly, hugging Praline close.

“Well, you shouldn’t have disrespected Oven like that. He is your older brother, and that really hurt his feelings,” Katakuri scolded gently.

“NOooo...” Praline wailed, sniffling between hiccups. “He’s not our real brother and you’re not our real brother! We’re _fake_ , just leave us alone!”

Katakuri frowned, expression darkened. “Who said that?”

“EVERYBODY!” Prim snarled, baring her sharp fangs. “You’re human and we’re fish, how could we possibly be related?!”

Katakuri considered carefully. “How about you let me come closer, and I tell you two a secret?”

Oven entered the room twenty minutes later, and he found the twin half-merfolk girls eating cupcakes and giggling in Katakuri’s lap. His brother’s signature scarf on the floor, and Katakuri grinned at him with his jagged fangs exposed on his serrated lips.

Oven grinned back, before melting the metallic door handle and sealing the large door tightly shut behind him.

.

Before Katakuri left Whole Cake Island, he and Oven made a mutual promise to Prim and Praline that they would get them a merfolk friend for their tenth birthday. Katakuri still had a lot of minister work back on Wheat Island, and a raid mission scheduled afterward that would take him out to sea.

The twin girls accompanied Brother Oven to the port to send Brother Katakuri off in the late afternoon, easily carried on Oven’s muscular forearm. They waved at the majestic Commander battleship as it leave the harbor bay. Katakuri waved back at his younger siblings from the ship bulwark, his scarf fixed in place.

“Be back soon, big brother,” Praline called, for once genuine in her use of familial honorifics.

“I will!” Katakuri replied.

None of them knew that Katakuri and his crew would go missing on his next sea voyage, and it would be another two months before they get another glimpse of each other again.

When Brother Katakuri eventually returned home, he became somewhat changed, with an uncharacteristic haunted look to his eyes. He had an ability now, but it was as if he had traded his warm humane heart for the devil’s power. The tender love and joy Praline associated with her second eldest brother gone, replaced by an air of simmering coldness worn like a defensive cloak. He appeared to stop caring about anyone outside of their immediate blood family.

Another thing of note was that during Katakuri’s unaccounted absence, a small group of pirates came, sneaking into the country when the Big Mom Pirates were at their weakest, and left with one of their most prized treasures. Their Mama’s pride was tarnished due to that event, and she severely punished Katakuri for going MIA at the most inconvenient time.

Praline didn’t know what the punishment was, but Brother Katakuri took it without complaints. He never talked about his trip and the origin of his devil fruit.

.

One year after that, not too long after Praline’s fourth birthday, several new policies were placed upon Tottoland.

The first was that Sister Broye acquired a devil fruit that could manipulate age of non-living objects by stopping material from decaying entirely, the Constant Fruit, which could be used to preserve food from spoiling. She was appointed Minister of Meringue at eighteen with an islet as her responsibility, and she worked with head-chef Streusen to turn Tottoland into an edible country. A wonderland where everything was sweet and too good to be true.

Charlotte siblings then hired workers to began construction of a cake-shaped chateau, which would eventually serve as their future family home.

The other major change was that the Big Mom Pirates became aware of their problem with border security due to the underhanded infiltration by the Roger Pirates into their city capital the previous year. Tottoland was simply expanding too rapidly and the fleets under Big Mom Pirates spreading too thin, they did not have enough manpower for effective patrol of the entire Tottoland empire, even with the extended family working tirelessly everyday. That was why after many debates, Mama eventually decided to put soul taxes on their copious population, to allow civilians to also contribute to their own protection.

In a world where survival was never a guarantee, was that not a fair trade to live in a dream wonderland where everything sweet was free?

.

~ 21 years ago ~  
Praline (age 8), Oven (age 27)

On Prim and Praline’s eighth birthday, Praline approached Brother Oven at the tea party. He was the only one amongst the fourteen appointed ministers to show up that day and Praline was quite disappointed, because she had hoped Brother Katakuri could make time for her special day. Oh well, at least Brother Oven was here, so Praline slapped a clipping of newspaper against her tall brother’s calf to get his attention.

“Yes, Praline?” Oven picked up his little sister and put her on the table, easier to maintain eye contact. The teacups sang.

“I want to go now, you promised with Brother Katakuri to get me my mermaid present.”

“Huh? If I remembered correctly, that promise is for your tenth birthday,” Oven pointed out. “You’re eight. Too young for us to take you to Risky Red.”

“I don’t want to wait until I’m ten!” Praline wailed, her tail fins flapping in irritation. She gestured at the news article reporting on Brother Cracker’s biscuit soldiers making a first appearance in Paradise. “Galette went with Brother Cracker through the Calm Belt and Reverse Mountain last year, when she was only eight. I’m eight now, so why is it so difficult to take me to Risky Red? It isn’t even that far away, two weeks tops!”

“That’s different!”

“No, it’s not!” Praline whined loudly. “Unless you’re not confident enough to protect a little girl like myself for two measly weeks, boohoo.”

“I never said that!”

“MAMAAA!” Praline called out, “Brother Oven says he’s weak!”

Mama turned to look their way from the head of the table, amused. Oven quickly covered Praline’s mouth—or rather, her whole body—with his huge gloved hands, his face heating up in mortification. “Praline, how about a compromise?”

Praline crossed her arms, not convinced. Oven sighed, waving a hand to summon a Pawn Chess. “Get me a Den-Den Mushi to Wheat Island, I need to talk to Katakuri.”

“Yes, Lord Oven!”

The chess piece hurried away, soon returning with a transponder snail sporting black striped shell and a tiny bushy scarf. The gastropod’s comical round eyes narrowed and tinged red when the line connected.

“Oven,” Katakuri’s voice sounded flat and tired. “I’m busy and going on no sleep for two days, call me back in... three hours. Clank.”

“Hey, don’t let him hang up!” Praline grabbed the receiver from Brother Oven’s hand and redialed. It was answered almost immediately and Oven made an aborted move to grab the snail phone. He did not want Praline to get yelled at in his place. That didn’t happen of course, because his eldest triplet brother was fucking psychic.

“... Praline, happy birthday. I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”

“Brother Katakuri, that’s okay. I know you’re very busy,” Praline bit her lips. “I was just talking to Brother Oven, he says he can take me to Risky Red this year—“

“No, I didn’t!” Oven cut in.

“—but only if you agree. You would agree, wouldn’t you?”

“... ... Praline. I don’t doubt Oven’s ability, but Risky Red is especially dangerous for people like you. Please understand, you are really too young.”

Praline’s eyes watered, “But this is my birthday.”

“How about this,” Katakuri proposed gently. “Give me one more year, I will schedule a time when Oven and I are both free, and we’ll take you to Risky Red together. A family trip, how does that sound?”

Praline tilted her head, still disappointed but willing to reconsider. “Okay,” Praline finally said. She waited another year.

.

~ 20 years ago ~  
Praline (age 9), Katakuri (age 28)

Praline leaped into the air, water droplets sparkling like crystals around her, before she dive back beneath the foaming ocean waves, seawater cool and pleasant against her skin. She easily kept pace with her older brothers’ battleships using her nimble shark fins, swimming between the two Big Mom Pirate vessels, before resurfacing to give her brothers a wave.

“Brother Oven, Brother Katakuri! Look at me!” Praline called out happily. This was Praline’s first time away from Tottoland and she was having the time of her life.

Katakuri waved from high above on the ship, elbows rested on the taffrail as he lean over to watch his little sister. A youthful mermaid princess free to play in her natural elements. “You’re doing great, Praline.”

Ministers of Tottoland all commandeer their own battleships, with unique designs and figureheads, but all fly the same pirate flag on their mast poles. Katakuri and Oven’s ships maintained a safe distance apart, sailing leisurely side by side, forming an imaginary enclosure in between for their little sister to play. They followed the Eternal Pose pointing towards the island of Risky Red. Taking two battalions worth of a hundred crewmen total to act as escorts for getting children’s presents might be overtly paranoid, but Katakuri did it for that extra precaution. They were bringing a stunning young mermaid to the largest slave trade in the world after all, and Katakuri had half a mind to gouge out the eyes of whoever dared to look at his little sister wrong.

Praline didn’t know anything about that of course, still innocent to the ugly workings of the world. Katakuri would preserve it as long as possible.

“Oi, Katakuri! You would not believe this!” Oven’s booming voice sounded from the other ship, across the makeshift bay area. He approached the railings, wearing an orange trench coat with sleeves burnt off and their family name CHARLOTTE emblazoned conspicuously in bright yellow on his back. Today’s newspaper was clutched in Oven’s hand, and he appeared to be somewhat upset.

Inexplicably, Katakuri began to laugh. Praline looked up from the sea as she drifted along, baffled.

“Cracker’s bounty is higher than ours now,” Oven elaborated, gaze lowered to explain to his mermaid sister splashing in the water. He whacked the newspaper against his exposed bare chest. “I feel so embarrassed, we need to step up our games. Katakuri, stop laughing.”

Katakuri shook his head, still chuckling. He reached over with a stretch-out mochi arm to save the crumpled newspaper before his little brother incinerate it due to a wounded ego. “It isn’t a competition, Oven.”

“Yes, it is,” Oven pouted. “I don’t get it, why does a detour through Paradise increase his bounty so much?”

“How much is it?” Praline asked, climbing up the side of Brother Oven’s battleship with rope. “What’d he do?”

“Four eighty, they doubled it for stealing a pet apparently,” Katakuri answered from the next ship. “Mont-d’Or has a bounty as well. Forty-six million debut, not bad.”

Praline blinked, “That must be some very important pet.”

Oven shrugged his broad shoulders, helping his sister up so she could sit on his forearm. Her blue tail swayed. “The Government is weird like that. Speaking of pets, do you want one? We could also get you a pet, once we reach our destination tomorrow.”

“Really?” Praline clapped her hands.

“Of course. We’ll even make Katakuri pay for it, since he missed your last birthday.”

Katakuri tilted his head. “... sure, why not.”

Praline hugged Oven’s neck, giddy and carefree. She didn’t notice her older brothers had effectively redirected the topic of their conversation away from whatever Charlotte Cracker did to earn his bounty increase.

.

Praline had read about Risky Red back on Whole Cake Island. She knew about the beautiful red trees and burning flowers that lit up like stars in the night, the bustling local markets and passionate traveling traders, pirates and chaos. Praline had not been expecting the cages, so many of them, occupied and stacked together out in the open at the port where her family docked their ships.

Wounded men, naked women, malnourished children. So many forlorn cries for help, so much screaming. Praline felt sick.

Katakuri noticed his sister’s unease. He picked her up and placed her on his shoulder, so she could huddle securely upon his fluffy scarf. “Praline, it’s very dangerous here. You have to stay by our side at all times, do you understand?”

Praline nodded.

“Good girl,” Katakuri stroked her chin.

Oven came over with a list in hand, “There are two current vendors with merfolks and seven with fishmen. The underground auction scheduled for tomorrow night will bring in a fresh batch, so we have two whole days to scout through these markets.”

Katakuri hummed. He signaled a dozen crewmen to follow as he walked down the main street with his brother, Praline riding on his shoulder. “We’ve got two hundred million to spare. That should be enough to get one for Praline and one for Prim.”

Praline pursed her lips and said nothing.

When they arrived at the first market on their list, she made a rash decision. “I want both of them,” Praline declared, pointing to the two middle-aged fishmen crowded in the small dirty tank. One had all his teeth removed and with a missing leg, the other with no right shoulder and arm.

Oven was flabbergasted. “Are you sure?”

Praline crossed her arms indignantly over her chest. “You promised to get me anything.”

“Yeah, but... ” Oven looked to his older brother. Katakuri answered with an absentminded shrug, showing he didn’t mind their little sister’s negligent demand, but then his crimson eyes sharpened. A jellybean flicked in the direction of the counter desk and the shop owner howled in pain, palm bleeding from a hole in his hand and a transponder snail dead on the floor.

“We’ll take the fishmen at half price,” Katakuri said in his deep calm baritone. “But if you send any mercenaries after my little sister once we leave, I will kill every single one of them and I will tear this pathetic building to the ground, are we clear?”

The slave trader nodded, trembling and losing control of his bladder. The Charlotte brothers were twice his size and extremely intimidating after all.

Praline really loved her family.

So that was how they spent their two days visiting shops, Praline requesting for anything and everything, while her brothers tried to better manage their money. The elderly, the deformed, the wounded and sick, the dangerous and grotesque, merfolks and fishmen, longarms and longlegs. Praline wanted to help every one of them, and she had two older brothers willing to indulge her whims. By the second day afternoon, Oven’s battleship was filled to capacity due to the sudden increase of sixty shackled slaves.

.

The underground auction held at eight that night was completely different, taking place in the conference hall basement of the grandiose Risky Red Hotel, with several merchandise already on display in the front lobby. The slaves here were all clean, healthy, dressed up, and young.

Oven went on ahead to the reception counter to register their family name as potential buyers, almost bending double due to the low desktop compared to his height. Katakuri stayed back in the lounge area, keeping a wary eye on Praline as she wandered around the hotel lobby inspecting the stocks. Katakuri doubted anyone would try anything with the underground auction only an hour away, but he had killed enough greedy rats these two days to ever let his guard down.

Praline had sauntered to the other side of the lobby, where a row of aquariums were set up. She saw a clownfish mermaid even younger than herself sobbing in one, and a brotula merman who was barely an adult smashing his fists fruitlessly against the reinforced tank holding him captive. His peach-colored palms pressed against the transparent wall before turning around, using his brown tail to slap at the glass.

Praline flailed her own tail fins on the polished floor, watching the older boy struggle. It was an odd feeling, seeing fish people like herself chained while she was allowed to roam free.

The merman boy was staring at her. He must thought it strange, too.

“... You don’t look like a slave.”

“I’m not,” Praline answered. “I am here as a buyer.”

The older boy scoffed. “You’re a kid, you shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous.”

“So are you!”

“I’m twenty, and a soldier of Ryugu Kingdom. I can take care of myself.”

“Well, I’m a princess of Tottoland.”

“Really,” the merman was sceptical. “I’ve never heard of Tottoland.”

“It’s a new country, founded by my Mama.”

The merman swam near, long black hair loose like seaweed. “Ryugu Kingdom is affiliated with the World Government, yet it doesn’t stop those bastards from stripping me of my personhood. I doubt being the princess of a new country could offer much protection.”

Praline giggled. “I didn’t come here by myself, silly.”

The merman blushed. “I tend to worry, that’s all.”

Praline laughed, her pleasant voice ringing like a bell. “You’re funny,” she said, hopping closer to the aquarium. “But there’s really no need to worry about me. My brothers are strong, nobody would touch me here.”

The merman glanced around. “I don’t see them.”

Praline pointed to the lobby lounge, where her brothers had managed to squeeze themselves into too small couches by folding their long legs. Oven had produced a large bowl of fortune cookies from somewhere, eating as they chat to pass the time.

“Different fathers,” Praline explained.

“I see—watch out!“

A large silhouette loomed over the conversing pair, casting them in shadow. It was a human male standing at almost four meters tall and wearing a menacing toothy grin. “Look at here, an escapee! I’ll take you back to—“

A machete appeared from behind the man, blocking his outstretched hand. It was a crewman from Brother Katakuri’s battalion. “I suggest you to not do that, sir. Lord Katakuri will take your hand if you lay a finger on Lady Praline.”

Oven half-turned to see the small fry quickly backtrack. Katakuri did not react at all meaning things wouldn’t escalate, so Oven returned his attention back to food. That was when the enslaved merman saw the surname plastered across the back of his orange long coat.

The young Ryugu Kingdom soldier let out a shocked breath, turning into air bubbles in the water. He swallowed, eyes shifting between the little girl before him and the group of infamous pirates he now recognized gathering at the lounge. “You... you’re...”

“I’m Charlotte Praline, nice to meet you,” Praline grinned. “What is your name?”

“... Aladine,” the merman replied. He hesitated. “Can I ask you a question, Praline?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you here... purchasing us merfolks?”

Praline thought for a few moments. “I grew up sheltered, but shunned by countrymen due to my mixed heritage, so originally I wanted a friend,” she answered honestly. “I did not know how people with physical attributes like myself are treated in the outside world until I arrived here, yesterday. It was horrible.”

“... I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for other people’s wrongdoing,” Praline chastised, but then her face fell, crestfallen. “I want to change things, but I don’t have that kind of power. So I thought to buy as many as I could, to give a little freedom back into the world.”

The lobby lighting dimmed, signaling the auctioning was about to begin. Praline pressed her small hand against the cool glass. “I could buy you, too. You could come home with me and be free, be my friend.”

“You are very kind, Praline. Thank you.” Aladine gave her a soft smile, but then he continued, “I would love to be your friend, if we could meet both as free persons. However, if you have enough wealth to save one more of us, please take Rajah with you instead,” he gestured to the clownfish girl next to him. “Please, as my last request.”

Praline bit her lips. She nodded.

.

They only had enough money to buy one of them, because Rajah was extremely expensive, despite her too young age. Then halfway through the auctioning a World Noble showed up, and he took Aladine as part of his collection.

Saint Rosward.

Praline was so angry.

She knew not to make a scene though, because she was educated beforehand on how harm to World Nobles would lead to mobilizing admirals from marine headquarter. The situation apparently serious enough that Brother Oven deemed it necessary to cover Praline with his coat, to hide her shark features.

Katakuri might not be too stressed over having to potentially trade rounds with someone like Admiral Sengoku for his little sister, but their Mama would be annoyed with them for causing needless inconvenience. He would keep his head down for now, to avoid direct confrontation.

It was, however, not difficult to see that Praline really wanted one particular merman. What to do.

“We can steal it.”

Oven looked up from the sea chart on which he was planning their return route back to Tottoland in the morning, in the stateroom of Katakuri’s battleship—they never call it captain’s cabin since the only captain was their Mama. The auctioning event that took almost four hours had just ended and it was now past midnight. Oven was sleepy. “Huh?”

“The merman Praline wanted. We can just steal it.”

Oven rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “Steal from the World Noble?”

“Why not,” Katakuri crossed his legs. “Ship is docked in the navy port across town ten minutes away, we can do it now and set sail before morning. If they try to give chase, we’ll just sink them.”

“You’re crazy,” Oven stood up and cracked his knuckles. He grinned. “I like it, how many men are we taking?”

Katakuri considered the situation. “Twelve, of mine. Get your ship out to sea first and tell them to wait by, out of sight.”

Oven nodded, “Give me thirty minutes.”

“I’m taking Praline with us,” Katakuri added. Oven paused by the doorway to the hall, puzzled. “Why?”

“I am not leaving her on my ship alone.”

Oven blinked. “You don’t trust your own crew?”

Katakuri’s expression clouded over. “They are not family.”

“Okay, okay. If you’re sure.” Oven left.

Katakuri breathed, standing up. He walked to the other compartment door, the one that lead to the commander bedroom. Praline looked so tiny, curled up on the huge mattress designed for his size. A bed he never used.

“Praline?” Katakuri whispered. He caressed his fingers through his little sister’s hair, to slowly rouse her from slumber. “Let’s go get you that present.”

.

“A barque like that has eight possible locations for brig and stowage. Three people assigned to a team, each scout two of these locations and find the slaves. This acid,” Katakuri tapped the glass bottles in the crate, “should be able to corrode steel manacles, and I want you to sever the limbs of anyone held by seastone. We’re aiming to get as many of them out onto the upper deck in the shortest possible time. Oven will wait there to destroy their explosive collars. Questions?”

They all shook their heads, each team coming forward to get a bottle of acid. Praline gripped an important piece of black cloth close to her chest.

“I’ll clean up deck patrol in two minutes,” Katakuri said, his right arm morphing into a mochi sniper rifle as he turned to face the gigantic Celestial Dragon barque. “Abort mission if they sound the alarm, and get out. Rendezvous back on the battleship in thirty, we set sail in forty. Anyone not on board by then, we leave behind.”

Then Katakuri moved, jumping onto the thick hawser mooring the ship and climbed onto the barque. Disappearing from sight.

“We wait two minutes,” Oven announced, his turn to be the command.

“Brother Katakuri is so serious on the field,” Praline said in a hushed tone.

“Of course. He’s doing his job.”

“You don’t change this much while doing your job though, Brother Oven.”

Oven exhaled, a little sad. He didn’t know how to best explain the weight of expectation placed upon his brother’s shoulders. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” Oven said instead. He turned to the crew, “It’s two minutes, launch our ropes.”

.

Oven worked swiftly once groups of ten or twenty slaves showed up, uncertain and frightened on wobbly legs. He didn’t waste time removing the collars, instead he only melted the central fuse at the base of their necks so that the collars wouldn’t explode.

Praline was beside her brother, holding up Mama’s pirate flag. “Go to the east side docking, get on the ship with this jolly roger,” she repeated, addressing the men and women with their collars disabled. “We’re saving everyone, hurry!”

Katakuri said nothing in response to his little sister’s enthusiasm, as he kept watch, but Oven could read him like a book. They were pirates after all, and not doing charity. The real reason Katakuri told Oven to just impair the bombs was so the escaping slaves would have no choice but to willingly climb aboard their pirate ship. They would remove all chains once they arrive back on Whole Cake Island if that were still Praline’s wish, but not a moment sooner. It was the same deal with those already on Oven’s ship.

Katakuri was not allowing anyone to get away. It had nothing to do with kindness. He was not like Praline, good and sweet.

They hadn’t found the merman when alarms sounded on the twenty-sixth minute point, then the collars Oven had yet to deal with exploded on the spot. Half a dozen bodies dropped on the floorboard, severely wounded and possibly dead. A few freed slaves screamed.

“Time to go,” Oven picked Praline up, before throwing his head back to glower at the massive folded mainsail. His eyes blazed flame, and the canvas caught fire due to his devil fruit power. “To serve as diversion, so our men still below deck has a better chance of getting away.”

Praline nodded, tapering down her disappointment in the crewmen’s inability to find her new friend Aladine. She was also starting to realize her brothers were subtly educating her in the workings of piracy. She thought of the unwritten tradition that most children within her family to be taken by older siblings on their first voyages after the tenth birthday, and how so many of them became wanted criminals before adulthood.

A family of pirates, that was in the Charlotte name.

And now with countless marine soldiers flooding on deck from the lower steerage at all sides, swords and guns in hand to cut off their escape, Praline had no doubt her brothers were willing to carve out a river of blood to secure their safety. Praline was no stranger to death, but she was still too compassionate and selfless for her own good. She buried her face into Brother Oven’s orange hair, distraught. “Please, don’t kill too many.”

Oven and Katakuri shared a look. Katakuri sighed.

Then doors leading to the master’s chamber flung open, and the Celestial Dragon himself stepped onto the quarterdeck. “Inferior commoner trash! Attempting to steal from me!” Saint Rosward hollered, “You should all be groveling on your knees before me! As the descendant of this world’s creators, I order you to kneel!”

Katakuri looked up at the small man in puffy white robe and oxygen case, standing on the deck above. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“We are in the New World now,” Katakuri said quietly, slowly opening his eyes. There was a dangerous glint in his crimson gaze. “It should be _you_ as nobility of old, prostrating yourself before us, the royal house of this new sea.”

A hundred guns cocked in their direction. Saint Rosward popped a vein, “You dare to humiliate—“

Katakuri glared, taking a single step forward. Time seemed to stop.

Praline gasped out in shock when people started to collapse around them, exactly as Brother Katakuri’s demand. Marine soldiers and even the World Noble falling to their hands and knees, eyes white out and foaming at the mouths.

Oven was disturbed by this revelation. “Katakuri, why do you have...?”

_Conqueror’s haki._

“I’ve known for six years.”

Since that trip he refused to talk about. Oven frowned. “You better tell me everything when we get back. You shouldn’t have hidden this from Mama, she’ll be so angry when she find out.”

“I know.”

Praline looked between her brothers, thoroughly confused.

“STOP, DAMN PIRATES!”

There were still four marines conscious and they all had white coats draped over their shoulders. The commanding officers.

Katakuri turned around, his left arm splitting open to reveal the trident Mogura hidden within his body. “I will catch up in five minutes, get back to our ship and ready to set sail.”

Oven obeyed, leaving his brother the fend for himself on an enemy vessel alone, under the burning canvas carrying the World Government symbol.

.

As they waited on the battleship, Oven explained to Praline what was so troubling about Katakuri’s ability. The Color of Conquering King was a trait unique to natural born leaders. Very few in the world and always the rulers, never the followers.

“Brother Oven worries that one day Brother Katakuri would usurp Mama’s reign?” Praline asked.

Oven rubbed a hand down his face, suddenly too tired. “I don’t know.”

Brother Katakuri arrived back exactly on schedule, at the fortieth minute, and he gave out the order to set sail. There were thirty-two additional stolen slaves with them as they leave the island of Risky Red behind, but four crew members fewer since they couldn’t make it.

The two Big Mom Pirate battleships met up at three o’clock under cover of night on open waters. They were completely out of navy reach before daybreak.

.

Newly issued WANTED posters were delivered by News Coo the very next morning.

Brother Oven and Brother Katakuri’s bounties were adjusted by about one hundred million apiece after the event, officially putting Katakuri above five hundred million and once again surpassing his little brother Cracker. Oven’s bounty update—both to his chagrin and delight—placed him below Cracker still, but put him higher than Daifuku for the first time in his life. Praline had a wanted-by-association footnote of eight million slapped on her head, and thankfully wasn’t identified as the true cause behind the whole incident due to her youthful age.

Theft of private properties and assault on marine soldiers, kidnapping and coercion, numerous civilian casualties, and worst of all the humiliation on a member of the World Noble. It got World Government’s attention.

On their merry way back home to Tottoland, the Charlotte siblings received news of an event that earned their sister Smoothie the highest debut bounty within their family, wanted for ninety-two million at the age of fifteen.

It all happened coincidentally within the short span of a week, the Charlotte family being the reason behind huge consecutive problems all across the globe, with negative influence reaching both sides of the Grand Line. Cracker and Mont-d’Or assassinated members of royalty to steal an exotic pet, resulting in a kingdom to plunge headfirst into civil unrest. Katakuri and Oven directly provoked the World Noble’s authority, before proceeding to murder several high ranking marines including a vice admiral. Not even two days later, Smoothie intercepted a vast shipment of heavenly tribute en route to Mariejois, and then sank the entire pursuing navy fleet.

This nightmare of a week consequently put their Mama back onto World Government’s high alert radar, since the downfall of the ROCKS Pirates almost twenty years ago. It was not surprising that around this time people across the world would stop calling Charlotte Linlin a delusional self-proclaimed queen, and start acknowledging her as an _Emperor of the Sea_.

.

Praline sang sadly to herself on her brother’s battleship and mourned for the friend forever lost beyond her reach.

Brother Katakuri approached her on the lower deck, the spurs on his boots making a familiar clinking sound. A tank filled with seawater was placed beside her, and inside were two strange creatures.

“Territorial sea slugs,” Katakuri explained. “My men found them back in the barque stowage, if you want something to remember by. We did promise to get you a pet.”

Praline thanked her older brother’s goodwill and accepted the gift. She gazed out into the ocean with the pair of sea slugs chirping by her side in their own lonely frequency. In time, they would breed, until sea slugs populated the coastal waters of the entire Tottoland archipelago, forming an intricate monitor network to serve their family home.

The young Charlotte daughter did not know in five years time Mariejois would burn and Tottoland would see the greatest influx of varied refugees since its establishment, fishmen and merfolks, longarms and longlegs, even some dwarves and minks.

All because the kindhearted half-mermaid princess Praline of this land had set the precedent for former slaves to be free, even with a brand that marked them as property and too much damaged psyche to ever expect full recovery. This was how the fairytale spread, of the talk that there existed a blissful paradise amid the high seas, a glimmer of salvation in this world that was purgatory, where racial discrimination was a punishable crime and food was free. An utopia ruled by a family of benevolent ministers, where even the mighty iron fist of World Government held no power.

Though everything for a small price of course, a tiny piece of soul every few months and a promise to never leave. To many, it was still an easy choice.

So welcome all, to Tottoland.

.

The tale would continue from there, as the young storybook princess Praline grow up, from a pretty little girl to a gorgeous woman who was thoughtful and just, who could perhaps beginning to see the err of her family’s ways. She would reunite with her charmed knight Aladine almost twenty years later, both as free persons and without cold hard glass separating them apart. Praline would marry to seize her happily ever after...

... except life was never a fairytale, and different types of love at odds felt equally deeply would be enough to tear anyone’s heart. To stay by her husband’s side, Praline would have to leave her dear family as her final goodbye.

Life or death, it was an easy choice.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon for Katakuri’s bounty increase: 37m (debut), 117m, 447m, 557 million, 1.057b. He had a slightly higher bounty than Luffy at any given corresponding point in their respective journeys, because being a better Luffy was the point of his character before eventually surpassed.
> 
> Smoothie had such a high debut bounty because her devil fruit is potentially the closest thing to a canon water fruit in existence. The previous record holder in the family was Cracker, 90m debut at nineteen, but only because he was significantly older when he received the first bounty.


	3. Spine Lettering (Katakuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katakuri learned the value of friendship. It was a harsh lesson.
> 
> featuring:  
> Katakuri, Mozart, Marnier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an attempt to tie some canon loose ends together, but potentially has controversial portrayal of certain characters.

**Spine Lettering (Katakuri)**

~ 26 years ago ~  
Katakuri (age 22)

It was odd, to hear the sound of boy singing, the cheerful tone of a tender baritone carried easily due to the serenity of the surrounding forest. It was a beautiful voice.

The singing stopped, and the dawdling man halted on his tracks.

“... I know you’re there,” the boy called out, without a hint of animosity. “There is no need to hide.”

The man let out a soft laugh under his breath, adjusting the circular glasses on his face and brushed away a strand of blond hair. He thought he had hidden his presence thoroughly enough, but apparently not. He pushed the lush foliage aside.

There was an extremely large boy resting by the cuboid red stone, around late teens, lean and muscular with short burgundy hair. He was wearing a heavy winter scarf and tight leather outfits not native to this isolated land, and armed with a long trident on his back. The boy was taller than the man even while sitting down cross-legged, but the oddest part was a flock of five baby magpies sitting on the boy’s head and shoulders.

“You’re not from around here, either,” the boy suddenly said, inadvertently interrupting the man’s internal musing. He talked as if it was a continuation of a previous conversation. The corvidae birds chirped.

The man tugged on the collar of the kimono he wore and folded arms over his chest. “What gave me away?”

The boy tilted his head, crimson eyes twinkled with mischief. “Your accent.”

“My accent?” The man was not expecting that to be the answer. He was quite sure he had yet to speak before the boy made his observation after all. “You didn’t hear me talk before you made that assumption.”

“I did though. Or I know, almost as if I can hear people a few seconds before they actually speak.” The boy hummed, “How is that possible?”

“How is that possi—?” The man asked, then paused, startled.

The boy’s smile was hidden beneath the fluffy cloth around his neck. “So, what brings an old man like you here?”

The man guffawed. “I can ask the same thing about you, young lad,” his sharp gaze carefully inspected the strange boy before him. “Foreigners like you don’t usually show up alone and unannounced in a place like this, especially so for this secluded country.”

“... ... Giant koi fish dragged my ship up a waterfall by accident, foolish blunder with ropes made by my crewmen really,” the boy replied. “We made it ashore after escaping from a whirlpool, but ship is unfortunately damaged, so we’re stranded here until my men can find a decent carpenter in town to get the ship fixed.” He gestured to the baby corvids ruffling feathers upon his scarf, “I befriend these small fellas here and want to look after them in the meantime. There was a snake chasing them you see, that I helped scare away.”

The man nodded. “You seem quite young, yet you have your own ship? Are you a captain?”

“No, I’m not. I am just a commander.” The boy shifted his long legs, “What about you, sir? I’ve disclosed my story, it’s only fair for you to share yours in return.”

“I was drawn here by a beautiful singing voice,” the man humored. “It is a shame the song was cut short before I get here.”

The boy chuckled softly. “My Mama taught me how to sing, and it worked to calm the birds,” the boy said, then he narrowed his eyes, pointedly looking at the double-edge sword hanging from the man’s waist. “But you know that wasn’t what I’m asking, fellow pirate.”

The man considered carefully, the boy was more perceptive than he originally gave him credit for. “My crew and I followed our captain into this country, to find a treasure map,” the man said. He made his way leisurely into the open area, until he could raise a hand to touch the red block sitting just behind the boy. His fingers traced the intricate carvings on the stone. “We already found what we needed to here, so it would not be long before we take our leave.”

The boy turned to also glance at the stone. “This is the map you were looking for.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

The boy shook his head. “I’ve thought of this possibility before, so the revelation of this actually being a map does not surprise me.”

“Oh?”

“It is not the first time I’ve seen something similar to this.”

The man did a double take, somewhat threw off balance by this piece of information. “You’ve seen another Road Poneglyph somewhere before?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yes, it is what we call the red ones,” the man explained. “There should be only four in the world.”

The boy nodded slowly. “But they don’t point to the same place? This one has a different engraving than the one I’m more familiar with.”

The man scratched his weird goatee. “Yes and no, think of them as pieces of a puzzle—”

“—each individual piece seems different, but make up the same picture once combined together?” The boy finished, “I see.”

“You’re pretty smart, kid.”

“Katakuri,” the boy introduced himself. “My name is Charlotte Katakuri.”

“... You are one of Charlotte Linlin’s children.”

“Yes, my Mama does have a reputation,” the boy answered. He held out his hand, already anticipating the strange blond man would greet with his own name.

“Sorry, where are my manners. I’m—”

“—Silvers Rayleigh, you would say,” Katakuri parroted. “Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands.

.

In the late afternoon, a couple energetic female voices rang throughout the forest, disturbing the tranquil atmosphere. Two young girls peeked their heads out of a shrub as they chase each other in a game of tag, one with wavy indigo hair tied in two braids and the other had a distinctive bicolor afro. Both of them wore kimonos of the native land loosely over their usual shirt-and-skirt attires.

“Brother Katakuri?” Charlotte Mozart called.

Charlotte Marnier skipped after her twin on light steps, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Brother Kata, where are you?” Marnier shouted.

“I’m over here, Mozart! Marnier!” Katakuri called back. He stood up to full height so his little sisters could easily locate his position.

Marnier ran over happily and hugged her older brother’s leg, mindful of his spiked knee guard. “Sorry we’re a little late,” she said, stepping back to hold up a basket full of fruits and sweets with her curved yellow staff. “We’ve brought you peaches and kuzumochi,” Marnier announced, “It’s a dessert unique to this country, you can eat it with kuromitsu syrup and—”

She stopped when Mozart pulled on her arm, noticing for the first time the shorter man standing beside their much larger brother. “Who is this?”

“This is Silvers Rayleigh,” Katakuri introduced, sitting back down. “Marnier, Mozart, say hi.”

Marnier looked at the suspicious adult, lilac eyes narrowed. “Hi,” she said, still cautious. “I’m Charlotte Marnier.”

Mozart was more shy compared to her talkative younger twin sister, so she ducked behind their older brother. “Hi,” Mozart mumbled, voice muffled by Brother Katakuri’s scarf.

“Hello, Marnier. Hello, Mozart. I’m Rayleigh,” the man greeted the young girls with a gentle smile, then he turned back to the tall boy. “I’ll leave you to it now. I have to get back to my crew or they’ll worry, have a good day and be mindful of marauding bandits around the area.”

“Thank you for the warning, we will.”

Marnier and Mozart watched the peculiar man walk away, whistling a joyous tune. “He seems nice,” Mozart said.

“Yes, he does,” Katakuri agreed.

.

Rayleigh visited again the next day, when Katakuri was alone, and this time he came bearing gifts. Two whole barrels of alcohol.

“You’re old enough to drink, right?”

Katakuri pulled his scarf up higher, to both hide his mouth and the blush heating up his cheeks, self-conscious about his babyfaced appearance. “I’m twenty-two,” Katakuri replied indignantly, feeling flustered. “... But the strongest drink I have ever had is cocktail fruit punch.”

Rayleigh bark out a laugh, pouring a full tankard of ale and handing it over. “You are missing out on so much in your life. Here, have a taste!”

Katakuri accepted the alcohol, but made no move to drink.

“Is something wrong?” Rayleigh asked.

Katakuri turned away, feeling uneasy. “I look weird without my scarf.”

Rayleigh shrugged. “I’ve seen plenty of wacky people in my travels, I won’t make a fuss.”

Katakuri looked at the older man. “Perhaps,” he said, but still did not remove his scarf.

Rayleigh didn’t push, instead pouring a full tankard for himself as well. He could respect the boy’s decision. “Well, if that’s—”

“Shhh,” Katakuri suddenly whispered, pointing at a tree. “They’re back.”

Rayleigh turned to glance at the verdant greenery, but not even his keen observation haki could sense anything out of the ordinary. Then, five grey chicks with glossy black head and metallic tail feathers flew down on shaky azure wings, making a smooth landing upon Katakuri’s outstretched arm. It was the same magpie species from yesterday, those very same birds. “Your observation haki can detect the presence of something even this small and frail? Impressive.”

The young boy shook his head. “I can’t, they are too small,” Katakuri said. “I just know what is going to happen around me seconds before they do, that’s all.”

“Like seeing into the future?”

“Yes.”

“That is quite an uncommon skill,” Rayleigh appraised. He downed the tankard of ale in his hand, before wiping his mouth clean and continued, “Say, if I were to ask—”

“No,” Katakuri interrupted sharply, cutting the older man off. “Thank you for the offer, but that is my final answer. I am not interested in chasing a dream my family could not share.”

Rayleigh weighed his next words. “It would be a waste, to squander a talent like yours under another’s shadow.”

“Perhaps,” Katakuri replied. He gazed fondly at the fragile magpies chirping on his fingertip, changing the subject, “A snake killed their mother, so I take care of them now. This is what I’m good at, and all that I really wanted to do.”

Rayleigh thought of the allegory and all that it implied. He sighed, rubbing his chin.

“Ah, the snake is coming back,” Katakuri said, his attention turned to a nondescript patch of grass. The snake that emerged was also a tiny little thing, insignificant to most observation practitioners. Katakuri sent it scurrying away with nothing but an oppressing glare, his silent command lingering in the wind.

The burst of energy was a familiar type of haki ability. That was the moment Rayleigh understood, if they were not friends, this quiet Charlotte son would make a very formidable enemy.

.

Mozart (age 11), Marnier (age 11)

The goth boy wasn’t by the poneglyph stone the next time Rayleigh came to visit, which was rather odd, but his two younger sisters were. In their hand was a bag of sunflower seeds, and they were feeding the magpies.

“Brother Katakuri is sick. He couldn’t come today,” Mozart explained when she saw the strange old man from two days ago. “We’re here to take care of the baby birds for him.”

Rayleigh was worried. “Is he okay?”

“He’s just drunk,” Marnier elaborated. “He consumed everything you gave us yesterday and now he’s holed up back on our ship due to being hangover, at the south eastern lakeshore, because his observation haki is not working properly.”

Rayleigh gaped, “He... drank two entire barrels in one go?”

Mozart and Marnier looked at each other. “It’s free food,” Marnier said. She then held out her hands, palms up. “We want some, too!”

“You two are too young to drink!” Rayleigh exclaimed.

“Then give us something else,” Marnier whined. “Adults shouldn’t show favoritism. You gave Brother Katakuri food, what about us?”

Rayleigh yielded due the expectant looks that pair of innocent eyes were giving him. He reached for his pouch and produced some salted almonds. “These are appetizers to go with beer, but...”

The Charlotte girls weren’t listening of course. They were already stuffing handful of nuts into their mouths. “Not sweet,” Marnier complained, scrunching her nose and sticking out her tongue.

“Forgive an old man like myself for not having much of a sweet tooth,” Rayleigh chuckled. He sat down on his usual spot, humming a rendition of _Binks’ Sake_ in his good mood. The twin girls clapped their hands, singing along, unexpectedly cute in a way only children could when they weren’t being petulantly demanding. They had an enjoyable time together, sharing exciting adventure stories of different people and exotic islands. Mozart and Marnier admitted that it was their first time on such a long sea voyage away from home.

The topic of their conversation soon turned to the red stone that served as landmark for their pleasant daily gathering. “... Your brother mentioned he’s seen this before, do you know about it?” Rayleigh asked.

“Of course!” Marnier answered, grinning cheerfully as she munched on a mouthful of almonds. “We have one just like this back home, in Tottoland! Mama keeps it in the treasury, it’s really cool.”

“Tottoland?”

“It is our home, a new country our family built on an archipelago,” Mozart replied proudly. “It has a beautiful capital city, fair weather on most islands, sugar rain and juice rivers. We all work very hard, to create an utopia where everyone can be happy.”

“Sounds like an amazing place,” Rayleigh laughed. “I would love to visit.”

Marnier squealed in excitement, full of guileless joy. “And we’ll welcome you as friends, it’ll be great! We can even have a welcoming tea party, and I’ll introduce you to so many of our brothers and sisters!” Marnier nodded happily to herself, but then her face fell, frowning in dismay, “Except I don’t really know how to get there.”

Rayleigh cocked his head, genuinely concerned. “You don’t know how to get back home?”

Marnier shook her head. Mozart however looked up from the nuts in her hand, “Not to worry though, Brother Katakuri has Mama’s vivre card. It won’t be a problem for us to get back home.”

The Roger Pirates first-mate nodded, deep in contemplation. He patted the girls on their heads.

.

Rayleigh had known the Charlotte kids for four days, and he was quickly associating them with various foods.

The eldest boy would return to the poneglyph site everyday, to feed the orphaned birds he had adopted under his protective wing. The young girls would show up around three in the afternoon, bringing with them traditional desserts purchased in the local village, to feed their older brother in turn. They would then look to Rayleigh, like starving lost puppies, because apparently having fed them once or twice they would start to expect free food like clockwork.

Rayleigh handed over a bag of fried fishsticks, amused by the delight that brightened the girls’ features. They were not that different from average children, in a way.

Mozart sat down beside her brother and placed the snack basket on her lap, uncovering the lattice picnic cloth to reveal a peach the size of a watermelon, plump with a sweet honey aroma. “I found this in the market today and immediately thought of you,” Mozart said with a huge grin, holding up her prize. “It’s big and pink!”

Marnier chewed on a mouthful of fish, swallowing before she spoke, “The seller said it tastes awful though. It is cultivated as an indoor decoration, but Mozart still insisted on buying it for you.”

Mozart pouted, “It looks pretty.” She turned to her older brother, “Are you going to eat it?”

The elder Charlotte sibling was thoughtful, like he was about to make the most important life-changing decision, before he finally nodded. “I will. Thank you very much, Mozart,” Katakuri said sincerely, could not emphasize his gratitude enough, as he carefully took the large fruit into his hand. Mozart was full of questions, unable to figure out why her brother was making such a big deal...

... when spirals cropped up upon the fruit’s surface, darkening into sinister purple. Its stalk curled.

Mozart gasped.

“Wow,” Marnier exclaimed, laughing. “Now it’s definitely going to taste so awful.”

Rayleigh though, was not focusing on the fruit. He was watching the Charlotte boy, understanding that he had just witnessed the undeniable proof of the potential power for future sight haki. It was truly terrifying. “Can you also foresee what ability you’re going to get?” Rayleigh asked.

Katakuri hummed. “Mochi,” he replied easily, like a joke, as he fixed his gaze on the reincarnated fruit in his hand.

Rayleigh blinked.

Then the devil fruit was gone, eaten so fast Rayleigh thought he had imagined the whole thing, until Katakuri gagged behind his heavy scarf. “It tastes really bad.”

“I told you,” Marnier giggled.

Mozart hugged her brother’s arm. “Show us, show us,” she said eagerly, so Katakuri spread his hand.

Small rounded dango mochi emerged from his palm, white like pearls and soft as cotton. Mozart and Marnier’s eyes sparkled, helping themselves to the unexpected dessert. The magpies also joined in the fun, hopping over to peck curiously at the rice balls that had fallen to the ground. Rayleigh was surprised when Katakuri moved to give him a dango mochi as well, offered on an extended upturned palm. The older man accepted the gift with a heartfelt thanks. It was sweet, sticky, and very delicious. The simple taste of this unlikely friendship budding between these two very different people.

It shouldn’t have been complicated.

Laughter, joy, sweet and carefree. A group of friends rejoicing in each other’s company.

But then unwelcome disturbance disrupted this pleasant afternoon party, when Katakuri abruptly leaped to his feet with a look of serious concern on his face. Mozart peered at her brother, puzzled, just as a man wearing BM bandana limped into the clearing with blood dripping down his forearm. The corvidae birds took flight.

“Lord Katakuri,” the crewman cried weakly, “Our ship is under attack, by mountain bandits. The samurai is too strong, we can’t—”

Katakuri was already striding towards the wounded man. “Mozart, Marnier,” Katakuri turned back to address his dear little sisters again just before leaving the open field, because family safety would always be his top priority. “Stay with Rayleigh and be safe. I’ll be back very soon.”

Mozart and Marnier nodded, huddling closer to the bespectacled middle-aged man. Rayleigh placed his hands protectively over the children’s slim shoulders, and then Katakuri left, disappearing into the dense woods.

“I hope Brother Katakuri will be okay,” Mozart muttered, fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

Marnier huffed, “He’s a Sweet Commander, he’ll be fine and be back in—” A clump of vegetation bush rustled, Marnier jumped. Rayleigh immediately unsheathed his sword, stance alert and prepared to confront hostile company.

Rayleigh was not expecting to see the familiar shade of brilliant red hair, nor the knitted beanie and round nose. “Shanks, Buggy. What are you two doing here?” Rayleigh asked, somewhat confused as he lowered his blade. His own crew’s cabin boys showing up so suddenly caught him off guard.

Shanks however kept his armed weapon drawn, saber glinting ominously in his left hand. Buggy had three throwing knives out and ready. They were wearing very uncharacteristic grim expressions. “We are to take them with us back to the crew, sir,” Shanks said, gesturing with his blade to the two girls behind Rayleigh. “Captain’s orders.”

“What...?” Rayleigh widened his eyes.

Just these two sentences of seemingly nonsensical exchange, and immediately Mozart paled, connecting the dots.

“We told you where we docked our ship,” Mozart whispered, a horrifying possibility dawning on her. She pulled at Marnier, soundlessly warning her younger twin to back away from the man. “Did you plan the attack on our crew? Did you set this up to draw Brother Katakuri away, _Silvers Rayleigh_?” Mozart accused, her voice raising until she was screaming her last words at the man she thought were their friend. “YOU _BETRAYED_  US!”

Rayleigh did not know how to respond. He didn’t know anything about this, but that was no excuse. It was him after all who relayed crucial information learned from careless children tongue, about the location of the third Road Poneglyph and the vivre card that pinpointed the way. The reason these children became targets in the first place, was because Rayleigh’s loyalty was foremost with his own crew, the Roger Pirates.

As vice-captain Rayleigh couldn’t rightfully stop Shanks and Buggy from going after the girls, caught between two opposing forces at work. There was no solution to this dilemma, burned bridges on both ends. That was the cruel reality of life.

Shanks was holding Mozart down on the ground, saber blade held steadily across her neck and a knee on the smaller girl’s back. Buggy chased after Marnier, throwing his knives at her feet to maim. Mariner sidestepped and swung her staff, ramming it hard into the beanie boy’s stomach and causing him to bent double, wind knocked out as he shout in pain.

And then Marnier ran, fleeing into the forest. She had to get Brother Katakuri. She had to tell her big brother that Mozart was taken and warn him that...

... Silvers Rayleigh was not a friend, but a _traitor_.

.

Katakuri (age 22)

There was chaos along the south eastern lakeshore. A battalion of forty pirate crewmen and women locked in combat with twice the number of local bandits, and the ship was burning.

Katakuri identified the leading samurai in an instant, a man almost as tall as himself but five times as wide, and he leaped swinging his trident. Katakuri’s first attack was blocked, but the following jab that aimed into the future was not as easy to counter. Mogura drew blood, yet the samurai was extremely agile for his built, as he managed to jump backwards in the last moment to avoid having an arm hacked off. Katakuri could see why this guy was giving his subordinates so much problem.

There were several courses of action for Katakuri to take, as it was quite apparent the leader outlaw wasn’t expecting resistance at his level. This country was secluded after all, and ignorant of certain famed titles on the seas. Katakuri was about to rectify that, by carving the fear of Mama’s name into these foolish marauders, when a little girl’s scream reverberated in his mind derailed his thoughts.

Katakuri abandoned the samurai at once—to the larger man’s bewilderment—and started moving towards the other side of the shoreline as if in a singleminded trance, chopping down any enemy blocking his way. Marnier was screaming for him, her every word echoed like deja vu due to his precognitive haki.

Katakuri had to suffer through it twice, a future already set in stone, that he could not change. The betrayal of a friend. _No, no, no, no, no._

Marnier was crying in his arms, eyes puffy red with tears streaming down her cheeks. Battle raged on around him, clashing of blades and ringing of gunfire, too loud and noisy. Katakuri could not think, he wanted the world to _shut the fuck up_ and give him a moment of peace to wallow in his personal misery.

Time came to a standstill, as the will of a rightful conqueror. A hundred men and women were now on the ground, quiet and unmoving.

The few remaining bandits were scattering, running scared. The samurai was gone. Most of his own crew had fainted as well, with less than ten individuals still standing and they were gazing at him with that familiar look of fear and uncertainty. Katakuri exhaled.

“Put out the fire, and move our ship downstream,” Katakuri gave out his order in a monotone, he was still half-kneeling on the ground holding his younger sister close. “I have unfinished business to tend to, with a  _friend_. Marnier, can you take care of our ship and crew in my absence?”

Marnier nodded. She wrapped her slender arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him one last time. “Be careful,” she whispered. “Make him pay for what he’s done.”

Katakuri said nothing.

He let his eleven-year-old little sister take charge of his crew, and he walked to retrieve his most important treasure. His heart ached.

.

Katakuri found the Roger Pirates anchored a kilometer away. The whole crew was there, Rayleigh standing beside a red-nosed boy who was holding his little sister hostage at knife point. Katakuri wondered how many of them he could fucking _murder_ before he inevitably went down due to being massively outnumbered, but knew it wasn’t worth it if that meant costing Mozart her life.

Katakuri felt his lenience strained to the breaking point, remembering to breath. “What do you want?” Katakuri asked quietly, already knowing the answer before they offered a reply.

“Charlotte Linlin’s vivre card. In exchange, we let your sister go, unscathed.”

So he had to make a choice. Between his mother and the many siblings at home, or the defenseless little sister before him now, one among them Katakuri had to willingly place unguarded in harm’s way. His family all the same...

... Mozart seethed. That was too cruel, forcing someone as kind as Brother Katakuri to make that impossible decision. Mozart was the daughter of a pirate mother and she knew the risks, of what it truly meant to carry the Charlotte name. She could not save herself in this situation but even then, Mozart refused to be used as leverage.

In a flash, Mozart freed one of her hands and drew the concealed dagger hidden beneath her skirt. Before her captors could react, she stabbed the sharp tip into her stomach. Mozart would make that decision for her big brother, so she let her life pour out onto her...

... Katakuri felt his heart stop when he perceived what was about to happen. He threw a glob of sticky mochi at his little sister’s hand, stopping the knife less than a centimeter away from her own soft delicate flesh. The red-nosed boy panicked, shouting about being under attack. The Roger Pirates fidgeted and posed for a fight, but Katakuri ignored them all.

His focus only on his little sister.

“WHY?” Mozart screamed, “Don’t do it, Brother Katakuri! I’m not worth it!”

Except that wasn’t true. Katakuri held out his left hand as his answer, melting, until an unremarkable piece of plain paper fluttered down from his split-open palm. A red-haired boy in straw hat ran over quickly to retrieve the vivre card. His sister was released, as they had promised.

There wasn’t any other choice to be made. Katakuri held his little sister in his arms as he walk away from the enemy pirate crew, allowing Mozart to sob silently into his shoulder. Their ship burned, Mama’s vivre card taken, and a commander stranded for the foreseeable future within this foreign land. Big Mom Pirates would be at their weakest in the next months and Tottoland wide open to outside invasion. It was a disaster. Another unwanted future he could predict, but could not prevent.

Running footsteps chased after the retreating pair of siblings, muffled by soft grass but still thundering too loud.

“Katakuri,” Rayleigh said, throat seizing up due to the bitter tang of sorrow and so much regret. “We wouldn’t have harmed her. We would not harm your family. Please, believe me.”

Katakuri turned around, blinking away the sting of pain at the corner of his eyes, impossibly calm despite the hurt clawing apart his heart.

“ _Liar_ ,” Katakuri hissed. Because that was what everyone did to him and his family throughout his life, never an ounce of true kindness offered, he was a naive fool to believe Rayleigh would be any different. Or perhaps betrayal was always an inevitability without blood tying people together in an inescapable chokehold and friendship could never be real. That would be the last lesson this hateful world deemed necessary to drill into the ‘perfect’ Charlotte son.

Katakuri raised his right hand, morphing with newly acquired mochi ability to cock into a literal finger gun. _Bang, bang, bang..._ , Katakuri shot his first—and most certainly last—friend.

Rayleigh willingly took those bullets to the chest, splatter of red like the poneglyph. He did not stand back up.

.

A small flock of native grey corvids lead the Roger Pirates to their fallen comrade. Their trill solemn cries mourned for a friendship needlessly lost.

The Roger Pirates did not know until they found him choking in a pool of his own blood, when it was already way too late to rectify this mistake, about the ‘could-have-been’s that ultimately resulted in the tragic broken ties between their vice-captain and the young commander of Big Mom’s crew. Seven near-lethal bullet injuries that Silvers Rayleigh refused to let Gol D Roger even think about avenging, because wounds of the flesh hurt so much less than wounds of the soul.

Tottoland would be the only place the Roger Pirates ever visited that they left untouched, unchanged, and completely unharmed. It was the only amends they could offer, for the young man they had unwittingly yet unforgivably wronged, whose only desire was to protect his cherished family. Still this wordless apology came too little too late, after the final straw had already shattered that Sweet Commander’s psyche. Charlotte Katakuri shed off the last trace of his once compassionate heart and became Charlotte Linlin’s perfect little killing machine, cold and obedient, because the world decided to fuck him over one time too many.

When Katakuri eventually returned home, his Mama was as expected furious for his inexcusable absence. He told his Mama the secret behind four red stone maps and how they lead to a legendary final island, and of the giant carps that could climb waterfalls to an isolationist country. That did not spare Katakuri from Mama’s unappeasable wrath, however. It was perhaps a test of loyalty as much as a form of punishment, when Mama asked him how much he was willing to give to always stay by and guard family.

Katakuri said yes.

Randolph the rabbit would be the only homie within Tottoland to possess crimson red eyes. A soft-spoken spearman, just like him.

.

Twenty-four years later, Rayleigh would take a promising young prodigy under his tutorship. He would tell him about someone out there in the final sea with the rare talent of haki foresight, and would warn him of facing such a foe unaware.

Monkey D Luffy though would surprise his mentor by telling him what mattered more to him than his opponents’ abilities were their personality.

Two years later, Luffy would sail into Tottoland for a friend, carrying all the dreams and freedom on his back. He would take the same mochi blade bullets to the chest as his teacher had from twenty-six years ago, but he would stand back up again and again, until he mend a long-forgotten wound.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Location of this chapter was somewhere within Wano Country. Mochi is a traditional Japanese food, so it made sense for the Mochi-Mochi Fruit to be originally from Wano. The fruit reincarnated into a peach was based on the Japanese folklore of Momotaro (Peach Boy), in which the main character befriended animals using kibi dango, a treat that had a variant called kibi mochi. Katakuri offering Rayleigh a dango was symbolic as an attempt at genuine friendship, referencing the lore. A feeling Rayleigh reciprocated by accepting, but life was unfair to both of them.
> 
> In Chinese mythology, a flock of magpies were said to form the bridge that allowed star-crossed lovers cowherd and weaver girl to unite once per year. Magpies thus being the reason that brought Rayleigh and Katakuri together, except they were only allowed to meet once in their lifetime.
> 
> Randolph ‘the Crane Rider’ is the most powerful homie after the ones from Big Mom herself, referencing the moon rabbit that pounded mochi on the moon and is perhaps making the elixir of life. Katakuri’s non-sequitur answer to Big Mom means there is no upper limit to how much he is willing to give, keeping up the parallel between Katakuri and Luffy in that they both would deplete their own lifespans for what they cherish. The respect Luffy shown during their match would remain the only instance Katakuri associated with sincere kindness ever offered by people unrelated by blood.


	4. Double-spread (marriages)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daifuku and Amande were the first son and first daughter to marry without freedom. Love, too simple yet too complicated.
> 
> featuring:  
> Daifuku, Amande, Counter, Kanten  
> Mascarpone, Joscarpone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple background OC pairs in this chapter, as it was unavoidable given the topic. Be warned the same tone of the series would be maintained, meaning no sappy romantic anything.

**Double-spread (marriages)**

~ 20 years ago ~  
Amande (age 27)

That year began the era of Sea Emperors, as two individuals became widely acknowledged by their power and accomplishments, as the ones who lead the two most fearsome active pirate crews in the world. Edward ‘Whitebeard’ Newgate and Charlotte ‘Big Mom’ Linlin. It was not an exaggeration to claim that anyone living in the New World at the time, only lived thanks to the influence and mercy of one among them.

People came to Tottoland bearing sweets and treasures, hoping to trade a sliver of Charlotte Linlin’s goodwill. They also brought their young sons and daughters, and that was the year Big Mom realized her children could be used as so much more than simple combatants.

Charlotte Daifuku and Charlotte Amande were the first son and the first daughter to marry without choice, without freedom. They got married on the same day, to a pair of snakeneck siblings who served as guard generals for the royal family of Kaidan Kingdom, the second largest snakeneck tribe population in the world. Their double wedding celebrated with the usual party cheer, and their Mama was promised a trained army by trading in their hands.

Daifuku’s wife was ten years his senior and was a capable spear master who commanded her own battalion. She was a royal guard and understood her worth was measured by the strength she could contribute into the cause. Their marriage was a simple arrangement on both sides, it was not complicated. Daifuku liked that despite her slight built, his wife was tall enough to look him in the eyes due to her long neck.

Amande’s husband was the younger brother and also a royal guard, six years older than Amande with a similar skill set. Amande formed no opinion of him other than a face and a name, but her husband did bring with him a story from long ago to their marriage bed, of four baby princesses stolen from their royal house once upon a time. Kaidan Kingdom was in fact the birth place of the half-snakeneck Charlotte quadruplets, so many years ago. It came as a shock for Amande when her husband offered to take her away from Tottoland and to live a life free from piracy together in their original home. It was probably where everything went wrong.

That year was a hectic year. Mascarpone and Joscarpone were born in late winter, near the beginning of the year. The father was a duke of Kaidan Kingdom that Mama married the previous year, who was the younger brother of the aged king. In early spring, consecutive actions taken by the soon-to-be-three Sweet Commanders earned Mama the Sea Emperor title alongside Whitebeard, a cause that indirectly resulted in Daifuku and Amande being treated as tokens in exchange for a snakeneck army during the summer. That year concluded two weeks after Cracker returned home with Mont-d’Or and Galette, in late autumn, when the months-old twins Mascarpone and Joscarpone vanished from the nursery, stolen from under the family’s supervision.

That was how the Charlotte siblings came to the realization. In addition to be deployed as hound dogs for Mama’s empire, they could potentially be used also as leverages for the too many enemies their family had made throughout the years. Another more depressing lesson learned was that, traitors could come from within their family as well, since only their own had direct access to the Chateau Nursery.

Amande’s husband was perfect in every way, handsome and considerate, the overtly idealistic spouse that only existed in teen romance novels. The only mistake he had ever made was asking his wife to leave with him on the day the baby twins went missing, and not realizing Amande hadn’t been completely sane since before her tenth birthday. Amande put a knife through her husband’s chest after they made love for the last time, because there was a slim chance he was in league with whoever responsible for her youngest siblings’ disappearance. There was no evidence either way, and the baby twins would remain missing for many following years.

Charlotte Amande was the first Charlotte daughter to kill her husband, proving that she had inherited so much more than a surname from her mother. In this respect, she certainly would not be the last. Amande would remarry five times throughout her life and would eventually murder six husbands in total, earning her the epithet ‘Mad Moiselle’ from the marines.

.

~ 19 to 18 years ago ~  
Counter (age 27 to age 28)

One year after the sudden tragic end to Amande’s wedded life, a mysterious woman from Cipher Pol was taken as bride scheduled to marry into their family under Mama’s very specific orders.

The arrangement came as a rather upsetting bombshell initially, but understandable in hindsight. That woman was an espionage agent caught lurking within Tottoland borders, who was abandoned upon discovery by her handlers as another disposable faceless pawn sacrificed in line of duty. Only two options remained for a government bitch trapped alone within criminal territory, and those were to bargain her worth with pirates or a slow painful death. That sly woman chose to betray her oath to the world leaders as was the only way to save herself, and consented to marrying into the notorious Charlotte family.

Mama was delighted, for the soon-to-be-former agent brought with her the priceless value of a vast intelligence network. So thrilled for the success of this marriage that the ‘generous’ Tottoland Queen allowed the two-faced bride a week, to freely pick the desired groom amongst her numerous unmarried adult sons.

It was a nerve-racking week for the older Charlotte brothers. Some tried to make themselves as unappealing as possible, such as 26-year-old Cracker who hid inside a suit of biscuit armor that made him look fifty and resolutely refused to remove the disguise, 23-year-old Basskarte and twenty-year-old Compo used cloth and accessories to cover their facial features, and nineteen-year-old Mont-d’Or started the habit of wearing heavy makeup that gave him the appearance of a pasty clown. Those with enough authority to commandeer their own battleships were quick to temporarily escape out to sea, like the unmarried 29-year-old triplets Katakuri and Oven, since Katakuri managed to foresee their mother’s decision minutes earlier and was already gone with his youngest blood brother in tow, before Mama even uttered the first word of the dreaded marriage-related announcement. Perospero was among the very few to remain calm, and just frankly admitted that he didn’t swing that way.

The woman was not particularly hard on the eyes. The Charlotte brothers just didn’t want her on principle because no amount of beauty could make up for the fact that she could literally backstab them in their sleep. Charlotte Counter was the unfortunate sod chosen in the end. His punishment was having his minister duty revoked due to the untrustworthy nature of his future wife, and his younger brother Mont-d’Or replaced him as Minister of Cheese. It was the most tension-filled wedding ceremony ever, and everyone felt apprehensive.

The bride looked stunning in her elegant white wedding dress, and she let her groom hold her hand. She had suffered through hellfire brimstone with a history of pain carved into her soul, as an orphan sold unwillingly into government facility and trained so hard to make a tiny difference, with a complete resume of special skills under her name as a former CP agent in the area of infiltration and assassination. Yet still she shuddered on the altar, for she was smart enough to know a sob story would earn her no sympathy from a family similarly survived through life’s too many cruel trials. Her history would only work against her by making her automatically hated by the entire Charlotte household.

The groom kissed the bride, sealing their fate.

Counter spent a significant amount of time during the earlier months of his marriage constantly fearing for his wellbeing, paranoid that he would one day wake up in Impel Down. The irony was, when the ex-official eventually destroy a wedded couple within the Charlotte family, it was not the shaky relationship between Counter and her. It happened ten months later when Counter was holding his newborn daughter in his arms, that his older brother Daifuku’s marriage went up in flames.

The reason being Counter’s wife, who worked for Mama by providing her unparalleled intelligence-gathering talents to track down the culprit responsible for the disappearance of the Charlotte twins Mascarpone and Joscarpone almost two years prior. Daifuku’s snakeneck wife was named as the most likely mastermind.

.

Daifuku (age 30)

Charlotte Daifuku received this devastating news when Mama summoned him in for private audience. Counter was present to vouch for his double-agent wife, Mont-d’Or to catalog the evidences, and Katakuri to make sure his triplet brother wouldn’t do anything impulsive. Charlotte Linlin sat on her extravagantly cushioned throne and told her third son, with a nonchalant patronizing smile as she gorged down delicious nutmeg butter muffins, to kill his traitorous wife.

Mama gave him forty-eight hours, so as to not interfere with the wedding preparations for his younger sister Broye taking place the following week. Daifuku felt his entire world collapse.

Mama’s will was absolute.

But...

But...

Daifuku stared at his Mama’s round fertile belly, heavy with so many children judging from her much larger than average size. Quadruplets or quintuplets this time, maybe even more. Daifuku felt nauseous.

It took a couple hours to get from the country capital on Whole Cake Island back to the smaller Crunch-Crunch Island by TARTEs, where Daifuku usually lived as the appointed minister in charge. Katakuri put his own duties aside for the day and accompanied his brother back to the island with buildings made primarily of various oversized beans, because he was still too soft for someone of his disposition. Katakuri phoned Oven via portable snail, to update the youngest triplet on their middle sibling’s current unstable mental condition, and then he took Daifuku to a local legume pub. Katakuri ordered tankards of lentil beer for Daifuku, to help his brother drink the remaining hours away.

“Why did _she_ have to do this?” Daifuku moaned.

Katakuri tugged on his scarf, uneasy, then he pretended to misunderstand the object of his brother’s question. “She is a royal guard. Kaidan Kingdom would always be her first priority, I’m sorry to say,” Katakuri muttered. “Their king is very old and the current queen is barren, their royal blood would run dry if they did not steal heirs from us, as we did from them many years ago.”

Daifuku did not correct Katakuri’s feigned mistake. Good sons should never speak ill of their own mother after all.

But...

But...

“... I love her. I still love her, despite all she’s done,” Daifuku choked, his voice monotonous and bland, the alcohol in his hand tasted like dry sand on his tongue. He did not know he was referring to his mother or his wife. “She’s six months pregnant, you know?”

Katakuri did not reply.

“I found a devil fruit on my last raid,” Daifuku said, swallowing past the pain stuck in his throat. “Wanted to give it to my kid. A perfect gift, so I could always watch over them in a way, but now my kid is going to die, with _her_.”

Katakuri stared at his own mug. “I could do it for you, if you want.”

Daifuku barked out a jarring sound, brittle and humorless. “Then I’ll have to kill you when you get back, for murdering my wife and child.”

The eldest triplet sighed. “Or you could try running away,” Katakuri continued. “I’ll give you a twelve-hour head start, see how far you could go.”

“... Would you kill me, when you eventually caught up with me?” Daifuku asked.

Katakuri turned away. He felt dizzy suddenly, as the abstract possibility of having to commit fratricide brought him very real agony. “I don’t know.”

When Daifuku left the pub, early in the morning of the second day, he found Oven standing vigilant by the front entrance leaning against the doorframe. He was the reason no other patron disturbed the pair of Charlotte triplets in the past thirty-six hours. Oven had his arms crossed over his bare chest, with a solemn uncompromising expression on his face. “I would do it,” Oven said without prompting, having overheard the last piece of conversation. He then clenched his fists and shut his eyes, biting through every word like they caused him physical pain, “... So don’t let us catch you, please.”

Daifuku looked at Oven. Wordlessly he reached out, to squeeze his younger brother’s shoulder, almost like an apology.

.

Twelve hours later, Katakuri and Oven caught their middle triplet brother. Not out at sea, but still back on Crunch-Crunch Island in Beany-Bean Town. Daifuku was sitting by the veranda of his personal mansion, cleaning his bloodied halberd with trembling fingers and desperately wishing it would rain, as the feeling of lead weighed down his dead beating heart. Yet there would be no funeral, for sorrow had no place in joyous Tottoland, and Mama would be expecting him to act like his normal self during Broye’s happy wedding in a few days time.

Katakuri and Oven joined their brother on the front porch, gaze turned upward at the cloudless sky to observe the sunset. The only thing they could offer was their silent companionship.

Charlotte Daifuku was the first Charlotte son to kill his wife, and the first Charlotte child to murder the love of his life by his own hands. He knew he was unlikely to be the last within their family to do so, as the curse that was the Charlotte name.

Daifuku never remarried. He took the Hoya-Hoya Fruit for himself, a devil fruit originally intended for his unborn child.

.

~ 13 to 8 years ago ~  
Mascarpone (age 7), Joscarpone (age 7)

Mascarpone and Joscarpone grew up in a peaceful snakeneck village with their father outside Kaidan Kingdom, far from worldly conflict on an island under the protection of Emperor Charlotte Linlin.

Their father was a knowledgeable man who was diligent and patient. He worked in the sweet factory charged with producing the required amount of candy tax every month to satisfy the Sea Emperor’s appetite, and he taught his twin children history and culture as their bedtime story. Their family was somewhat poor but they lead a happy life, dressed in the plain traditional robes of their birthright everyday, with their most expensive possession the gold plated brass bands wore around their long necks.

Mascarpone and Joscarpone did not know their father was a refugee nobleman living this life of seclusion for fear of accidentally inciting a Sea Emperor’s wrath, awaiting the chance to replace the elderly king on the throne. The twins did grow up familiar with the Big Mom Pirates flag however, as it hung conspicuously in the middle of the village, an emblem that offered both dread and safety. A safety that came to an abrupt end when they were seven years old.

It began personal but relatively small, with the disappearance of their father on one normal workday, then things rapidly escalated. Four women with large distinctive hats visited their homeland the following morning, and they came with a peculiar demand. The townspeople must hand over all children under the age of twelve, or they would burn the whole place down. A week were given for the villagers to comply to their ultimatum, and a gigantic singing vessel flying the Big Mom Pirates flag were docked in their harbor to serve as a persistent threat.

Due to the absence of a guiding parental figure, the twins were quickly rounded up alongside many other children and taken aboard the animated ship. Lured in by the sweet smell of candy and honey nectar, where a hundred snakeneck children were told they could “Eat, drink, have fun!” without care. Too good to be true. A saccharine front, hiding the sinister plot to kidnap a hundred ignorant children, before burning the town to the ground.

The children were taken to Lamb’s House located on Candy Island, the largest orphanage in the country of Tottoland—and perhaps also the largest in the world—under the Emperor Charlotte Linlin’s domain. Only then were they told by a splendidly-clad Candy Minister, their hometown was gone and their families all dead.

Joscarpone was among the first to muster up enough courage to speak with their captors. “Why? Why bring us here?” Joscarpone asked, shaking with fear and anger.

Minister Perospero thus told the story of how a young boy and a young girl were stolen from home once upon a time, of how their family spent years pouring countless resources just to get them back.

“So here you all are, perorin~!” Perospero singsonged, waving his candy cane as he created artistic moving sculptures in the air to accentuate his dramatic tale. “Welcome to Lamb’s House, kids. The staffs here will take care of you from now on. You are allowed to eat any candy on this island, with the exception being chocolate and carnauba tiled rooftops, so always remember to brush your teeth.” The minister gestured with his cane to the exquisite candy mansion on the opposite side of the plaza, sparkling like gemstones under the sun. There were many other children of various races playing on the spacious lawn, eating jellybeans and creampuffs grown on garden plants.

“You are very welcome to knock on my doors if you need anything.” Perospero adjusted his top hat, giving everyone a final reminder before he leaves, “You are all allowed to be exempted from paying the country’s tax, until we find who among you are our siblings. Until then, have fun and enjoy yourselves. I will be back in two weeks to take everyone on a field trip.”

Joscarpone wondered how were those strange people expecting to identify two specific kids from a hundred. Mascarpone walked over to stand by her side, thinking the same.

They tried to run away at the end of the first week, during the night. They only made it to the port.

“Don’t push your luck, kiddos.”

Mascarpone and Joscarpone froze. There from the shadows walked a woman they’d seen before, armed with pistols and a lot of cleavage exposed—Lady Effiler, executive of the Big Mom Pirates. Mascarpone pulled out a knife stolen from the orphanage kitchen, but the puny blade was immediately shot from his hand by a precise bullet.

“Two children cannot manage a ship. There is nowhere for you to go.”

“Well, we don’t want to stay here either!” Joscarpone shouted back.

Mascarpone agreed with his sister, “We’d rather die out at sea, than play nice with a bunch of murderers who destroyed our home!”

Effiler tiled her head, considered, then leveled her gun. “As you wish,” she replied, pulling the trigger.

The bullet hit Mascarpone on the base of his neck. He choked out a gasp of pain, but no blood spilled when lead bounced off his brass neckband, denting the metal. Joscarpone screamed in horror.

“Return to the orphanage, kids,” Effiler holstered her handgun. “Let this be a lesson to you. The sea is harsh and unforgiving, I show this moment of mercy because we take care of our own as family.”

Mascarpone and Joscarpone were scared, as they were forcefully escorted back to their sugar-coated penitentiary. They did not know this then, but no Charlotte children grew into adulthood without experiencing the terror of near-death snapping at their heels.

.

Minister Perospero came for them at the end of the second week, after the children grew accustomed to living in Tottoland. He took them on his candy-themed battleship to Whole Cake Island, to visit the Charlotte Palace located at the country capital. For all intents and purposes, it seemed like a normal sightseeing field trip, with the last stop being the Chateau Library where the children saw living specimen of many strange animals and plants. Mascarpone and Joscarpone stayed close to each other, tightly clutching each other’s hands. They could not figure out the purpose of this event.

That was, until Minister Mont-d’Or showed up with a huge book and gathered all wandering children before him as he stood on a raised platform. “I’m going to show you something very special now, children,” Mont-d’Or announced.

Mascarpone and Joscarpone noticed other members of the Charlotte family subtly blocking the exits. The four women with large hats were there, but also three much younger men—Charlotte Kanten had the bandaged appearance akin to a tall skinny mummy, Charlotte Kato whose head looked like a jack-o'-lantern pumpkin, and Charlotte Montb in a stereotypical vampire outfit. Mascarpone and Joscarpone returned their attention back to the Cheese Minister with that ominous book, preparing for the worst...

... and then they breathed in the scent of iron, and blood, and dried tears.

The book was a prison. Inside was a man, bloodied and bruised from long hours of torture. Amid the terrified screams of children in shock, Joscarpone had walked forward in a numbed trance with Mascarpone beside her, to pull futilely at the bars.

“Dad?” Joscarpone whispered, unable to believe her eyes. The unconscious prisoner could not reply.

A slender hand touched her shoulder. Joscarpone looked up to see the Candy Minister smiling down at them. “We finally found you, perorin~” Perospero said, tone gentle. “Welcome back to the family.”

Joscarpone startled, but felt a sudden sense of disgust. She slapped the man’s hand away, then retreated against the book cage. “Don’t touch me!” Joscarpone screamed, “You’re not my family! What did you do to my father!”

Mascarpone gave his twin sister a worried glance, unsure how wise it was to provoke a group of pirates infamous for their cruelty. The other kids were taken by the spook-themed triplets to another room, leaving them alone to fend for themselves. At this point, the only thing Mascarpone could do was stay by his sister’s side.

Perospero was wearing an expression of hurt, unused to such violent rejection from children. He turned somewhat helplessly to Amande, silently requesting assistance.

Amande huffed, blowing a cloud of smoke playfully at her eldest brother, before turning to the small half-snakeneck children. Mascarpone—standing protectively in front of his sister—coughed, so Amande let the cigarette fall to the ground and extinguished it with her heel. Mont-d’Or gave his older sister a frown and an exasperated sigh for littering the Chateau Library.

“That man you called your father?” Amande nodded at the unconscious wounded man, “He orchestrated to have you taken from us years ago, because he wanted to use you in his attempt to seize control of Kaidan Kingdom’s throne. What do you think would have happened once he accomplished his goals, and you’re no longer of use to him? He doesn’t care about you, not like us.”

“You’re lying,” Joscarpone hissed.

“Why would we?” Amande countered. “He never told you about your mother, your family, or your royal heritage. He is the one who lies.”

Joscarpone frowned, unable to think of a comeback. “But you people destroyed our home.”

Amande shrugged. “We’ve only burned a small town for this insult against Mama’s name, because Kaidan Kingdom is under our protective jurisdiction. Know that we have destroyed entire countries for far less.”

Joscarpone bit her lips at the crude reminder that these people were dangerous. Mascarpone cleared his throat, “What are you going to do about us?”

Perospero clucked his long tongue. “Nothing,” he answered easily. “We’ll show you around the chateau, introduce you to some people here and prepare you a room. We’ll take you to Mama once everything settles. You can call me Brother Perospero or Brother Peros, by the way.”

“Okay,” Mascarpone said, uncertain. “B-Brother Peros, what about... what about our dad?”

“Pardon?”

“Our father,” Mascarpone repeated. “What are you going to do about him? Are you going to... ki—“ he swallowed, “—kill him?”

Perospero licked his candy staff. “He doesn’t matter to us that much, perorin~ We’ll keep him at the Prisoner Library down in the basement, you can visit him whenever you want as long as you find someone to accompany you. Do with him whatever you wish.”

Joscarpone was suspicious. “You’re not worried we would let him go?”

Perospero laughed. “It’s fine. You are family, we can respect your decision on such trivial matters, perorin~ But enough of this gloomy talk, we have more important topic to discuss.” Perospero motioned for Mont-d’Or to put away the book. “Your older brother Kanten’s wedding will take place in five days, he is the bandaged boy you saw twenty minutes ago. The tea party is going to be fun and you’re both invited. Everyone will be there, so I think it would be a good chance to introduce you two to the whole family.”

Mascarpone and Joscarpone looked at each other, unsure how to reply. They were still hesitant and these pirates were just too weird.

“I can understand if you were unwilling to come, but please think about it, perorin~”

Reluctantly, Mascarpone and Joscarpone nodded.

The twins were then taken by their eldest brother to the Chateau Playroom. There they made their first friends in this sugar land. Thirteen-year-old Charlotte Chiffon and Charlotte Lola were also a pair of twins, albeit identical. Chiffon was quiet and kind, while Lola was a compassionate outgoing girl who could discover positivity in even the most unpleasant of circumstances. Together, they took the seven-year-old fraternal twins under their care.

Mascarpone and Joscarpone had their surname changed, but they still retained many habits learned from their youth. Plain white traditional robes for daily wear, dark arm bands and sandals, a single golden hoop around their necks. The modest dressing style a stark contrast with the saturated vibrant colors of Tottoland. They would eventually adapt to this life of piracy, and would one day govern their own island with Mascarpone holding the title Minister of Silverware, but they would be the only set of Charlotte siblings to always stay physically close together no matter what. This odd dependence on each other was an obsession left from back when they were first kidnapped to this pirate empire, alone with only each other for company in this unfamiliar place full of enemies.

Five years later, with the death of the king and a lack of heirs, country-wide civil war inevitably broken out throughout Kaidan Kingdom. A fate their guard generals had given their lives, yet still failed to prevent.

.

Kanten (age 15 to age 20)

The youngest Charlotte child to ever be used as marriage piece was Charlotte Kanten, and in this case he was actually still a child. He was married at fifteen to a woman over twice his age. It raised some uncomfortable moral issues, that which couldn’t be easily solved.

Kanten used to be a fairly handsome teenaged boy. Lean like his triplet brothers Kato and Montb, but taller and more muscular, with untamed basil green hair. That marriage completely changed him. Kanten stopped caring about his outward appearance, and he ate and ate and ate, until he became grossly obese and alcoholic. Many among his siblings were concerned, but when asked Kanten always insisted that everything was fine, until he showed up one day five years later during the tea party hosting Sister Amande’s fifth wedding ceremony with his right eye in gauze and blind.

Kato murdered the abusive ephebophilic whore that was his elder triplet’s wife, because he knew Kanten was unable to do so due to some misguided sense of love. He was tied by duty to govern Seed Island as the Seeds Minister however, so it was Montb who moved in with his brother on Jelly Island the next day, since the youngest among these triplets didn’t have such time-consuming responsibility himself. Kanten already had a four-year-old son by then, conceived back when Kanten was only sixteen, which was another problem in this fucked-up mess. A son Kanten was massively underprepared to take care of alone, who would soon be sent to Whole Cake Island to grow up under Mama’s direct care.

Kanten would ask Montb, how different was his personal situation to their family’s as a whole. The physical and verbal abuse he suffered from his much senior wife, and the unconditional affection he foolishly offered in return. Was that so dissimilar to the treatment they all experienced from Mama, yet likewise offered unconditional love in return?

Montb had no answer.

Eight years later when young sixteen-year-old Pudding was chosen as the next bride, the Charlotte siblings uniformly agreed with their Mama to just assassinate the groom on the altar. The tragedy of Kanten’s marriage should not be repeated after all, and no bastard man should be allowed the chance to manipulate their darling little sister. Not to mention, Germa Kingdom did have certain unfavorable reputation.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daifuku was exceptionally mad at Pudding for being unable to go through with the planned assassination, some context to explain the why. Oven was voted among the most popular siblings, yet was so ready to kill traitors within the family, because he’d been mentally preparing himself for this possibility since many years ago with Katakuri (Ch2.) and Daifuku (Ch4.), his closest kins. Amande’s epithet has a meaning closer to ‘Ghost Mistress’ in the original language, hinting that she was married and likely widowed. The cute girl on Counter’s shoulder in present time is assumed to be his daughter. The bandaged boy in the Chateau Playroom is assumed to be Kanten’s son based on some shared designs. Mascarpone and Joscarpone dress in traditional plain robe styles that seemed slightly out-of-place in colorful Tottoland. This chapter was my interpretation for the possible backstories behind these canon characterizations.
> 
> I don’t like Charlotte/OC fics, a grand total of NO happy endings in this chapter should make that fairly obvious. Counter’s wife was intended as a parody of those OCs: beautiful, smart, special skills, tragic backstory, gets to choose the groom etc. Except realistically I doubt any Charlotte brothers would care, because everybody has a sad past in the New World, and they would dislike her on principle all the same.


	5. Bookmark (fangs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every once in a while, a Charlotte child would grew up with torn mouth full of sharp canine fangs. It must be a recessive family gene.
> 
> featuring:  
> Basskarte, Poire, Nougat, Katakuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by anime-only scene that likely based on canon designs. This chapter referenced events in Ch5. of **As a Charlotte Child**.

**Bookmark (fangs)**

~ 37 years ago ~  
Basskarte (age 5), Katakuri (age 11)

Charlotte Basskarte first met his older siblings when he was five years old. Mama took the family to a faraway spring island on the homie ship powered by his youngest blood brother’s soul, following trails left by newly issued WANTED posters featuring three children not that much older than himself. Basskarte remembered as introductions were made, how his twenty older brothers and sisters paused when they saw his grin revealing a mouthful of misshaped fangs. Basskarte had always known that his teeth looked appalling, so he was actually grateful his older siblings limited their initial reaction to short startled glances.

The thirty children didn’t get to really know each other until six months later. Mama was in the late stage third trimester of her pregnancy and she wanted handcrafted desserts made with oranges and pistachio marzipan, specific cravings that head-chef Streusen could not satisfy with his devil fruit power. So, with Linlin rather indisposed due to expecting childbirth soon, Streusen dumped sixteen Charlotte kids on a winter island shore with orders to ‘Not come back until every one of you bring back five tons of food’ from Mama herself.

Unfortunately food on winter islands was scarce and all private property, meaning they had to somehow steal eighty tons from the locals. It sounded like an impossible task, especially since this small country was affiliated with the World Government due to being on a major trading route, with copious marine soldiers stationed as guards. Children were not the most inconspicuous when it came to subtlety, and battle inevitable when adults had no patience for juvenile thieves. Five-year-old Basskarte gripped his sword and was terrified out of his mind, with his quadrup—triplets Nusstorte and Dosmarche faring no better, shivering in the snow. Four-year-old Noisette was on the verge of tears.

Perospero knew the younger siblings had no combat experience, so he split everyone into teams. Oven, Daifuku, and himself would lead groups of five, allowing Katakuri to work undisturbed with more freedom to maximize his skills. It was a good strategy, but Katakuri decided that he wanted to take a younger sibling along.

That was how Basskarte finally got to know him. Brother Katakuri, the perfect Charlotte son.

.

The marines reacted swiftly when they realized the Charlotte children were not normal kids. They sounded the shrieking alarms, and were quick to pull out guns and swords, retaliating as merciless as they would against any other adult pirate crew. Basskarte were told to hide as his older sibling cleared a path. Brother Katakuri was only eleven, and already an extremely proficient observation haki practitioner. He could run through barrage shelling from firing squads and cut down soldiers behind enemy lines, completely untouched. Invincible, Basskarte thought.

They took the southport storage in good time, but immediately ran into a major complication. “Brother Peros!” Katakuri spoke urgently into the baby transponder snail. “We have a problem, the storage here is used only for stock vegetables. What should we do?”

As Brother Perospero and Brother Katakuri debated the logistic over telephone mushi on looting carrots and beans, beetroots and pumpkins, but no peas and definitely no broccoli. Basskarte walked over to the piles of leafy greens. His eyes sparkled.

Basskarte had a secret, you see. He didn’t actually like sweets, and in the Charlotte household that meant going hungry often, as he did now. Basskarte picked up a cucumber the size of a log and stuffed it into his wide mouth, chewing through the gourd with sharp fangs like crosscut saw. Brother Katakuri was staring at him now, but Basskarte didn’t care. He was starving and would have his fill before this chance slip by, crouching celery and lettuce between his teeth, then reached for more bizarrely colored vegetables. Purple eggplants, yellow bell peppers, red chili, black cardamom, pale cumin, and golden fenugreek seeds. The flavor of foreign spices exploded in his mouth, it was so delicious Basskarte wanted to cry.

“You... don’t like sweets?” Katakuri asked.

Basskarte choked on a piece of cassia bark, swallowing. “... Don’t tell Mama,” Basskarte whispered, genuinely scared. “I know I’m weird. I tried to be like everyone else, I did. I’m really sorry.”

Katakuri waved his apologies away. “It’s not a problem, don’t worry,” Katakuri reassured, moving to collect everything into large burlap sacks.

Basskarte was mortified. “Don’t do that, Brother Katakuri. Bringing back so much vegetable will make everyone unhappy. I can’t eat this much anyway, and wasting food is always bad.”

“No need to worry,” Katakuri repeated. He tied the many sacks together to easier drag perhaps twenty tons of food along, in a casual showing of his tremendous strength. “I’ll eat the leftovers if I had to. The important thing is to make sure family doesn’t ever go hungry.” Never again, Katakuri thought, having personally experienced the pain of desperate starvation.

Basskarte though was thoroughly embarrassed, since he had no idea what some of his older siblings went through. “You don’t need to do that, Brother Katakuri,” Basskarte muttered, shouldering a much smaller bag. “I know vegetables are disgusting.”

Katakuri laughed. “No, they’re not,” Katakuri said, surprising his little brother. “I like donuts, but other than that I don’t really have a preference over what I eat as long as whatever is edible.”

Basskarte paused his gnawing on a piece of chili pepper. “... even broccoli?”

Katakuri gave his timid little brother a look, before picking up a green broccoli bigger than his head, like a statement. Then very slowly, Katakuri pulled down his scarf. Basskarte’s mouth fell open when he realized his second eldest brother had teeth so similar to his own.

“Even broccoli,” Katakuri confirmed, eating the vegetable raw. That was the exact moment Basskarte was convinced, Brother Katakuri was truly perfect in every way.

They were pursued by another marine battalion on the way back to Mama’s pirate ship. Brother Katakuri was about to slice down the hostile opposition, when Basskarte moved decisively to stand in front of him. Basskarte was not going to live under older sibling’s protection forever. He would repay Brother Katakuri’s kindness by making him proud, and he could accomplish that through proving himself worthy of their shared family name.

So Charlotte Basskarte swallowed all the hot spice he had been consuming and opened his mouth wide, the chili that burned his throat let him spit flames, setting the surrounding area ablaze.

.

The Charlotte kids were children without real understanding of scale. They only did as they were told, not truly comprehending how a country numbering countless thousands of casualty was left devastated in their wake.

A hundred tons of food was amassed in total, with Katakuri contributing over sixty tons of vegetables from multiple return trips, just to cover for his younger siblings. Perospero knew Katakuri’s personality well, so he felt no need to collect any food himself. Instead Perospero parted ways with Hachee and Effiler at the central piazza, certain that the quadruplet girls could take care of themselves, and he took a detour through the city treasury with young Noisette dutifully tagging along. Perospero was at the end of day, the only Charlotte child at the time with any sense of monetary value. He singlehandedly trashed the financial facility, and together with his little brother brought back millions worth of gold. This was an inspiring event for Noisette and he would continue to follow in Brother Perospero’s footsteps, becoming the Finance Manager of Tottoland a decade later at fourteen, and the Finance Minister at sixteen.

The newspaper that reported on this incident renamed Charlotte Linlin’s crew as _Big Mom Pirates_ due to the absurd excessive use of children combatants, and it marked a turning point, officially putting them on the world radar. Perospero and Katakuri had their bounties increased, both crossing a hundred million despite their ridiculously young age. Perospero for his creatively gruesome use of devil fruit power, and Katakuri because he was identified by the navy as capable of utilizing advance observation haki. Daifuku, Oven, Hachee, and Effiler had newly issued numbers placed on their heads. Daifuku the highest among them at twenty-two million.

Though during the earlier days of their reputation, Big Mom Pirates were actually considered laughing stock amongst criminal society and low priority to the marines. After all how threatening could a group of burdensome children be, especially when they were lead by a woman captain, always pregnant and vulnerable? The newspaper printing inadvertently made them seemed like an easy target, it was unsurprising they would be attacked the very next day.

Nobody could have predicted it then. Among countless hundreds of dangerous pirate crews to plague the New World sea, it would be this crew—originally ridiculed as a baffling joke—to eventually triumph over all competitors. From survivors, growing up to become conquerors.

.

Basskarte made his way into the raised quarterdeck once action dwindled down, after his family sank the fifth enemy pirate ship this month. He nodded to Brother Perospero, the eldest Charlotte son was reading the story of _Liar Noland_ to one-year-old Mont-d’Or on his lap, multitasking as he swirled hardening candy syrup to decorate his newly encapsulated sweet corpse at his feet. Sister Brulee and Sister Broye were play dancing with the two-year-old toddler boys Compo and Laurin on the upper deck. Moscato was arguing with chef Streusen again in the hallway, the three-year-old child screaming about not wanting to wear matching dresses with her—his?—triplet sisters Mash and Cornstarch. Basskarte passed by Dosmarche in the cafeteria, he was fiddling with magnets in an attempt to hover kitchen knives into cutting the tres leches cake, with Brother Zuccotto watching in amusement. Their ship _Lullaby Chanter_ always lively with activity and cheerful songs.

Basskarte made his way to the top sleeping quarter he shared with his quadrup—triplet brethren. Even after almost two years, he still needed to mentally correct himself on their changed birth number status. Basskarte sighed, knocking twice on the sturdy wood before opening the door.

“Nusstorte, you know how to sew, right?” Basskarte asked. He tugged on the long sleeve of his shirt.

Nusstorte looked up from his work at the desk, scattered with wind dials of various sizes looted from other pirate crews, and a large box of sharp needles. The homie bicorne that was their former brother observed the dexterous craftsmanship from a tall stool. “Yeah,” Nusstorte replied easily. He hopped off his chair and walked to the huge dresser, to dig out miscellaneous bolts of colored fabric. “What do you need?”

“A scarf, or neckerchief,” Basskarte immediately answered. “I want something to cover my mouth and teeth, like what Brother Katakuri had done.”

Nusstorte paused. He turned around, suddenly feeling concerned for his younger brother. “How long do you plan on keeping that up?”

“As long as it takes,” Basskarte said without hesitation. “For the rest of my life if I had to.”

“But... why?”

Basskarte gazed out the window of their small bedroom, overlooking the decks. Brother Katakuri sat crossed-legged upon the ship figurehead humming a musical note, with pleasant sea breeze ruffling his scarf. Basskarte grinned to himself, sheepish and knowing his reason was a secret he would never tell.

“Because, Brother Katakuri is _perfect_.”

.

~ 24 to 21 years ago ~  
Poire (age 6 to age 9), Basskarte (age 21)

Charlotte Poire was an interesting case. Unlike her older brothers Katakuri and Basskarte, nor younger sisters Prim and Praline, Poire had normal shaped baby teeth growing up. It wasn’t until she was six years old, when her first permanent tooth cut her lip as it started to grow in, that the dawning realization of the possibility she would have ugly fangs hit her.

It was her lower central incisor, and Poire felt her life was ruined forever.

She did not know about her older brothers’ teeth at the time, her experience extending only to how her younger sisters were shunned by countrymen for being half-fish abominations. A depressing thought, Poire wanted to break something.

Galette entered the bedroom she shared with her twin sister in their new castle home, holding a clipping of newspaper front page, when the dressing table mirror crashed at her feet. Galette crossed her arms, slightly annoyed.

“I liked that mirror, Poire.”

Poire was lamenting by the window. She was sullen enough already, having no energy to quarrel with her twin.

“What’s got into you?” Galette asked.

Poire turned around, baring her single crooked tooth. “Looks like I’m related to Prim and Praline after all,” Poire grumbled. “Fuck!”

Galette blinked. She came closer, tipping her younger sister’s chin up for a better glance. “It is... not that bad?”

Poire sulked, unconvinced. “I know it’s only going to get worse,” Poire muttered, shaking her twin’s finger away.

Galette pursed her lips, then suddenly went to hug Poire tight. “I’ll pound anyone who dare say anything into the cement. You know I have a mean right hook.”

Poire sighed, leaning against Galette. She was very grateful, knowing at least her twin would have her back. “Thank you, Galette,” Poire whispered, burying her face into her older sister’s shoulder. The fuchsia curls tickled her nose.

“But hey, I can take care of myself, too,” Poire added softly. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Galette watched Poire carefully, “Are you sure?”

Poire shrugged, avoiding the question and really wanted to change the subject. She spotted the clipping in Galette’s hand. “What’s that?”

Galette’s eyes lit up. “It’s news about Gold Roger, after a whole year of nothing,” Galette said eagerly, shoving the piece of newspaper into Poire’s hand.

Poire was very confused. “Why are you so happy about this?”

“Because Roger is COOL!” Galette exclaimed. Poire stared.

Galette paused, quickly backpedaling, “... that came out wrong. I mean, he’s not cool sneaking into our home stealing stuff.”

“So...?”

Galette scuffled on her feet. “... Traveling around the world is cool,” Galette finally said. “Our family just kind of, like, stay here.”

Poire tilted her head. “You don’t like it here?”

Galette considered what she wanted to say, eyes peering out the window overlooking the colorful countryside. “Most of our older siblings were born on the sea, even crybaby Monty,” Galette said, “We were among the first generation children to be born here, in Tottoland, since over ten years ago. Is that so strange, wanting to experience life as our family had done?”

Poire thought it over, gingerly, accepting the explanation. She supposed that made sense in a way, as she spread open the clipping to read.

Content of the article was not what Poire expected.

“Mama is not going to let you go.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Galette replied. “Brother Peros told me he is already working on ways to tap navy transmission, so we can watch it happen here.” Galette gripped Poire’s hand in excitement.

“It’s going to change the world. I know it will!”

“For better or for worse,” Poire agreed.

.

Throughout Tottoland thirty-five year history, there was only one event where every single person within the Charlotte household were present. It was not a wedding ceremony, compulsory for all family to show up in theory, but never truly did in practice, because the twins Mascarpone and Joscarpone missed most of their siblings’ earlier weddings, while Lola missed all of the latter ones. Sweet Commanders tended to have mediocre attendance rate for various reasons, Pudding’s wedding hitting all-time low with Commander Cracker and former-Commander Snack both recovering in the infirmary.

The event that gathered all Charlotte children—fifty-eight at the time—into the newly constructed Whole Cake Chateau was not a family tea party. It was an event that completely changed the world. The execution of the Pirate King, Gold Roger.

They passed around caramel marshmallow popcorns and chocolate butterfingers, flavored macaroons and peanut nutella brownies and cheese pretzels. The sixty core members of the Big Mom Pirates, including Mama herself and head-chef Streusen, awaited before the large screen projected by gigantic Visual Den-Den Mushi. They all heard the declaration that would start a new era inspiring an entire future generation to take to the sea, as they watched blood spill upon the raised platform of that nondescript East Blue town.

The Charlotte siblings were not the new generation rising to the call though, as even the youngest combatants among them could be considered veterans by nature of their births and upbringings. Seven-year-old Snack flicked a switchblade between his fingers, his twin brother Bavarois crossed his arms and scoffed. Eight-year-old Dacquoise spat out the toothpick he had been chewing on, like a precision dart nailing into the mushi projection screen. Fourteen-year-old Mont-d’Or was muttering under his breath, something about scholars and learning to read road maps. The eleven-year-old triplet girls Smoothie, Citron, and Cinnamon giggled.

Galette nudged her twin sister, unable to contain her enthusiasm, despite it getting late at night in Tottoland with the execution taking place midday on the other side of the world. Poire rolled her eyes and yawned, absentmindedly spinning her airgun, the first sharp fang digging into her lips. The twin girls were six years old and physically small, but already training to shatter dreams of pirate generations to come. Mama’s devoted gatekeepers.

Challenge accepted, the Charlotte siblings all thought. Let the rookies come, we will crush them all in the New World.

.

Charlotte Galette would get her wish to see the world two short years later, when she boarded Brother Cracker’s battleship to cross the Calm Belt. At eight years old, Galette would be the youngest Charlotte child born in Tottoland to venture into the outside sea.

It however also marked the beginning of the worst years in Poire’s life. Most of her teeth had changed into fangs by then, and she was scorned at every turn, especially since her overprotective older twin was no longer there to beat sense into the brainless tweens in the city. Those idiotic civilian brats, full of immature cruelty, and not yet old enough to understand why people generally did not fuck with the royal house of Tottoland unless they had a death wish. It was just luck there was an unspoken rule amongst all Charlotte siblings, that they would not kill children, never intentionally at least. It was probably an universal soft spot born from having a large family always brimming with childhood laughter and playful songs.

Charlotte Poire violated this rule when she was eight years old, as she became first of the Charlotte siblings to kill a child. All because unlike Galette who was a fist-fighter despite having a slender built, capable of limiting her strength to hurt without causing permanent harm, Poire instead was a gunslinger.

An ordinary nine-year-old commoner boy, nothing special, shot dead at point-blank range on the forehead, because naive stupidity typical of preteens provoked a sleeping beast once too far. This incident caused a rift between the Charlotte House and the denizens of Tottoland. Most older Charlotte siblings had to work overtime to mend the resulting internal conflict peacefully, nineteen-year-old Cornstarch was urgently assigned as the Communications Manager, and only one amongst fourteen current ministers could show up for Prim and Praline’s eighth birthday. Poire was severely scolded by Brother Perospero and was grounded in the chateau for two whole months due to this debacle, she was even banned from partaking in Mama’s marriage party to her thirtieth husband.

To make everything infinitely worse, Brother Katakuri was extremely disappointed in her. Poire’s first crush growing up, like many young Charlotte daughters around her age. That caused Poire to spend her nights crying into the marshmallow pillow, desperately wishing for Galette’s company.

She must be the worst little sister ever.

A tentative knock on the door.

“Poire, it is Basskarte. May I come in?”

Poire slowly sat up on the bed, hugging her knees. “Brother Basskarte?” Poire asked weakly between hiccups. She dried her tears and gestured to the homie door, to let her much larger brother into the too-empty bedroom.

A sizable armchair skipped over by the bed, so Basskarte took a seat. “... I heard what happened.”

Poire shrank into herself, immediately defensive. “Are you going to yell at me for killing, too?”

Her older brother sighed, shaking his head. “Of course not, god knows I’ve done no better when I was your age,” Basskarte said, his voice muffled by dark neckerchief. “Brother Peros is just a little stressed over, since he is recently tasked with building an orphanage and you kind of made his job more difficult. It is bad timing, that’s all.”

Poire stared at her toes. “... why are you here, Brother Basskarte?”

Basskarte pulled his armchair closer to the bedpost, with long mane of orange hair framing his face, so Poire would look at him instead. “I heard what happened,” Basskarte repeated. “Trouble with kids in the city, yes?”

Poire ducked her face into the silk quilt, hiding her hideous teeth and avoiding her brother’s observing gaze. “Not your business!”

Basskarte waited patiently for a few moments, for his little sister to calm down, before reaching out to gently touch her on the elbow. “Poire, I apologize for not noticing your distress earlier. It wasn’t my intention for you to feel so alone.”

Poire looked up, eyes narrowed and wary. “What do you mean?”

Basskarte pulled down the neckerchief covering his face, to let his little sister see his similarly misshapen fangs. Poire gasped.

“I have the same type of teeth you do, Poire,” Basskarte said, gesturing to his own mouth. “If you have such troubles, you’re very welcome to come talk to me. The room I share with my brothers is just down the baum hall, I’ll be staying there for the time being.”

“... I thought everyone is busy recently, because I fucked up,” Poire mumbled. “Is it okay for you to loiter on Whole Cake Island?”

“Good thing I’ve got two brothers who are more responsible than I am,” Basskarte laughed, shaking his head in self-deprecation. “Anyway, it’s getting late. Sleep well, little sister.”

Poire however pulled at Basskarte’s long sleeve.

“What is it, Poire?”

“Can you stay here for the night?” Poire asked, feeling nervous. “... I don’t like sleeping by myself, and Galette is...” Poire sniffed. “... not here.”

Basskarte nodded slowly. He would always remember the quadruplet brother he had lost so long ago, and how Nusstorte still carried around that homie bicorne to this day. Basskarte could understand the feeling of loneliness, so he hung his outer coat on the hanger and settled in the cramped bed next to his little sister.

Poire shuffled close to bury her much smaller body into her brother’s large arms, feeling safe and content. Basskarte leaned over to turn off the lights, humming softly as he did, to sing his precious younger sibling a melodic lullaby.

“One last question?” Poire asked quietly.

“Yes, Poire?”

Poire bit her lips, a little hesitant. “... Are Brother Katakuri’s teeth the same as yours—” Poire stopped, amended herself, “—the same as ours?”

Basskarte startled, realizing that sometimes girls could be frustratingly intuitive. Basskarte didn’t want to lie to his little sister, but that was a secret he had kept to himself for over fifteen years. He... couldn’t reply.

Her older brother’s silence spoke volumes.

“Thank you, Brother Basskarte,” Poire whispered, into the comforting darkness of night.

.

Poire’s punishment ended in time for her ninth birthday celebration, about three months before the end of that year. Perospero and Katakuri both showed up for the tea party to let their little sister know everything was good again, with the orphanage built and countrywide trouble resolved, and Poire had since learned to better control her own temper. Brother Perospero gave her a compact pistol with fruit pyrene bullets as her present, and Brother Katakuri brought her a homemade brandy pear fruitcake.

Poire accepted the gifts with a grateful smile, showing all her sharp fangs. Brother Katakuri brushed his fingers tenderly through her hair, as an encouragement, and Poire could not help but stare at the jagged scars vaguely visible on his cheeks, imagining the teeth she would never see hidden beneath the heavy scarf. Poire thought about how her brother endured through everything to uphold the wishful dream of idealistic perfection their family had unwittingly projected onto him, a history she would never know nor fully understand, and how much he was willing to give for them all.

Poire and Brother Basskarte shared very similar opinions on Brother Katakuri, but they came to wildly different conclusions. As opposed to Basskarte who chose to conceal this shared secret, Poire threw away her shame and wore her appearance proudly, to show that she would support her second eldest brother no matter what.

.

~ 10 years ago ~  
Nougat (age 7), Poire (age 20)

When Charlotte Nougat was a much younger child, he was actually quite jealous of most siblings around his age.

Nougat was not like Mascarpone and Joscarpone, three years his senior, who lived their early childhood away from home and were born twins willing to always care for each other. Nougat was not like Yuen, two years senior, naturally gigantic and strong, capable of defending himself. Nougat was not like Flampe, two years junior, inherently adorable and so popular nobody would dare touch a hair on her pretty head. Charlotte Nougat was just Nougat, who had the misfortune to be born as a small single child one mere year after the hell spawns that were nine out of ten decuplet siblings—Newgo being the sole exception—and Nougat suffered through his entire early childhood being picked on as their primary target.

In a way Nougat was kind of similar to Pudding, one year junior, or rather Pudding was similar to him. Pudding was constantly bullied by preteens in the city for her third eye—which true, it was kind of creepy—and her situation had only gone downhill since her self-appointed caretaker Sister Lola ran away from home two weeks prior, but even then Nougat still envied his younger sister sometimes. Civilian children were easy to beat up at least, and Nougat overheard Pudding asking head-chef Streusen for knives the other day. Nougat however, could not just beat up his older siblings. Not when the decuplet boys were all stronger and faster than him individually, while the decuplet girls always followed Nutmeg’s lead and look out for each other with air-headed Harumeg twice his size.

Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Nougat thought. Then it fucking did, when Nougat got his first permanent tooth at seven years old in the shape of a deformed canine fang.

Newgo found Nougat wallowing in self-pity by the grape juice fountain in the middle of Sweet City Square. He went over to say hi. Nougat jumped a solid meter into the air when he saw one of the decuplets behind him, and immediately prepared to run. Newgo sighed.

“I’m Newgo,” Newgo said, knowing even family had trouble telling apart him and his identical brothers, despite them having drastically different personalities. Newgo didn’t often hang out with siblings around his age for example, preferring the company of older family members who were not complete imbeciles. He would however try to stop his identical brothers when their teasing went too far, knowing Newichi and Newji in particular could be remorseless with their outrageous antics when really wanted to.

Nougat let out a breath of relief when he realized who it was.

Newgo gave his little brother a quick once-over, pointing to a purplish bruise on the side of Nougat’s left cheek half-hidden by knitted scarf. “Who did that? Newji?” Newgo guessed. Nougat cringed, confirming his suspicion.

With a heavy sigh, Newgo produced two plastic cups and dipped them into the fountain. He offered a cup of grape juice to Nougat, hoping to cheer up his little brother. “So, what was the reason this time?” Newgo asked.

Nougat hesitated.

“Something else the matter?”

Nougat struggled with himself for a second, before pulling down his orange scarf to show his older brother that single sharp tooth. “He said he would get rid of it for me, before socking me right in the face,” Nougat grumbled. “I am going to be mocked for life, I just know it.”

Newgo inspected the odd tooth thoughtfully, taking a small sip of juice, then quite suddenly he changed the subject. “So, are you going to Flampe’s birthday party tomorrow?” Newgo instead asked.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Nougat replied, tucking his scarf securely back in place. The sheer size of their core family averaged a birthday celebration every other week that took place in this central plaza in Sweet City, participation was optional and it was accessible to civilians. Unlike the biannual wedding ceremonies that took place on top of the chateau, where only esteemed guests were allowed to attend.

“Why do you ask?”

“You should go,” Newgo said. “Flampe is popular, so a lot of people is going to come. You could use this chance to talk to Sister Poire, about your worries I mean. Her teeth are all like that.”

Nougat fidgeted. “I don’t know...”

Newgo grinned, motioning to his younger brother’s scarf. “Brother Katakuri might show up as well, if you wished hard enough. I know you’re a big fan.”

Nougat blushed. “Shut up,” Nougat groaned, burying his face into his hands.

He decided to take Brother Newgo’s advice.

.

An unprecedented amount of people came to celebrate Flampe’s birthday the following day, as expected. Nougat waded through an ocean of cheerful townsfolk in search of his family, and he loathed himself for being such a tiny kid.

Brother Peros and Sister Compote were easy to spot due to their heights, both of them showing up for a birthday party was pretty uncommon as it was. Brother Katakuri was not present unfortunately, and neither was Brother Daifuku, though Brother Oven did arrive carrying three different gifts. Brother Cracker and Sister Angel were also there mingling with the crowds, with Cracker in his gigantic armor as was his habit and Angel sitting on his shoulder, which meant Sister Custard had stayed behind to watch over Biscuit Island in their absence. Sister Smoothie was there as well, surprisingly enough, making this one of the rare birthday occasions that two Sweet Commanders made their appearances.

Nougat accidentally bumped into a tall weasel mink in his distraction, falling to the ground.

“Oh, Lord Nougat! Sorry, are you alright?”

“It’s fine,” Nougat said. He looked up at the huge furry man before him, and got an idea. “Hey, can you find Sister Poire for me? I need to talk to her.”

“Of course,” the mink immediately replied, using height to his advantage as he looked around, but even he was unable to find a small woman in such a large crowd. “I don’t see her, perhaps Lady Poire didn’t come today?”

Nougat crossed his arms, feeling dejected, but immediately perked up and changed tactic. “What about Flampe? She should be here.”

“Of course! I saw Lady Flampe just now at the head of the long table by the center juice fountain.”

Nougat thanked the weasel mink and found an ostrich homie willing to give him a ride. They went to the table.

“Happy birthday, Flampe!” Nougat called, jumping onto the tall main table and sitting down next to a plate of funfetti cookies. He handed his little sister a colorfully-wrapped stick of cherry bubblegum as present.

Flampe looked up from a slice of cake. She smiled, sweet as honey. “Thanks, Brother Nougat.”

Yuen leaned over the tabletop and chuckled. “I’m surprised to see you here, Nougat,” Yuen said, pushing away the animated plates to clear a wider space for his younger siblings. Raisin came over with a huge bowl of raisin sprinkled rice pudding, and took a seat beside his brother. Nine-year-old Yuen and twelve-year-old Raisin were the only underage children of their family tall enough to sit on the main table chair, and Nougat desperately wished he could get as tall as them someday.

“Yeah, well,” Nougat mumbled, turning to Flampe. “I have a favor to ask, actually.”

“What is it?” Flampe asked with a cheerful laugh, her voice ringing pleasantly like a musical bell.

“I need to talk to Sister Poire, can you tell me where she is?”

Flampe fixed her gaze on her brother for a few lengthy seconds, then—without needing to search around—said, “Sister Poire is by the muffuletta and coconut crepes.”

“... You are amazing,” Nougat gave his younger sister a grateful nod, getting on the ostrich homie again to go find Sister Poire. Flampe was another extraordinary prodigy born into the Charlotte household, no wonder she was so popular.

.

Nougat felt tongue-tied and butterflies as he went around the many tables and Tottoland citizens to approach his older sister. Poire was talking with Kato, on the topic concerning his triplet brother Kanten, who had stopped participating in family events for the past three years, since his uncomfortable wedding. Nougat inadvertently interrupted their discussion when he walked up to them, with a stiff greeting.

“Hey, Nougat!” Poire waved, her confident grin showing all her teeth. “Great to see you! Are you having fun today?”

“... Yeah, I supposed.”

Nougat was acting strange, Poire picked up the cues at once. She gestured to the bruise somewhat noticeable on her little brother’s left cheek. “You seemed troubled though. Care to share?”

Nougat’s grip on his scarf tightened, but unable to make himself remove the stupid piece of clothing due to intense embarrassment. He was a Charlotte, goddamnit. He hated admitting weakness.

Poire however, was always more insightful than people usually thought. Nougat’s discomfort did not escape her watchful observation. Only two other people within the family concealed their mouths obsessively from the world after all, it was not difficult to draw a conclusion. Nougat was also around the age Poire herself first encountered this similar problem.

What to do though? Poire looked around, her eyes landed on the pumpkin-headed brother also at this baguette table. She promptly had an idea.

“Kato,” Poire addressed the eighteen-year-old young man, holding out her hand. “Can you give me a katakuri?”

Nougat was thoroughly disconcerted by that statement, unable to comprehend why their second eldest brother was being referred to as an object. Kato however understood his older sister perfectly.

“Sure, Sister Poire,” Kato replied easily, holding up an open palm. Kato was the Minister of Seeds and had the Mosa-Mosa Growth Fruit ability, allowing him to manipulate vegetation and plant life. In his hand thus bloomed a beautiful flower, with petals oddly flexed and discolored leaves.

Poire nodded her thanks. She plucked the flower and gave it to her seven-year-old little brother. Nougat blinked in bewilderment.

“This is a katakuri,” Sister Poire explained, fingers carefully brushing the delicate flower placed in Nougat’s hand. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It is also called the dogtooth violet.”

Nougat stilled. His attention focused on the weird plant with pink petals upturned at the top, dark-spotted leaves, and pointed white filaments. Such a beautiful thing, to bear such a denouncing name.

Nougat thanked his older siblings and returned to his personal quarters in the chateau with the flower blossom in hand. He stared at himself in the full-length mirror and thought, coming to a decision. Nougat pulled his orange hair up to fix them in the shape of the dogtooth violet upturned petals, inked dark marks over his upper arms—he would get real tattoos when older—and wore a pair of dotted green pants like the spotted leaves. For the final touch, Nougat unwrapped the knitted orange scarf around his neck to exchange it for one that was fluffy and white, referencing the white flower filaments. Nougat dressed himself like a katakuri fawnlily, perfect as the name. He did it, because he idolized Brother Katakuri, like all siblings from his generation.

The wide age gap might have caused an interpersonal distance between them that only allowed Nougat to admire his second eldest brother from afar, but he was okay with that. Later, Flampe would ask Nougat if he was interested in starting a fan club for their older brother together, and Nougat thought, why not? It sounded fun.

Charlotte Nougat had determined then, to start putting life back together, in the way he wanted.

.

Nougat’s newfound conviction gave him courage to stand up against his tormentors, the decuplets soon lost interest and left him alone. A changed outlook greatly improved his perspective and life gradually got better, but it was around this time that his sister Pudding’s life completely crumbled. When Nougat passed by the gardens on his way to meet up with Flampe, he saw Pudding sobbing in the overgrown gummies underbrush. Her face was dirty with messy tears, the knife in her hand dotted by flakes of dried blood. Pudding appeared overall uninjured though, so Nougat shrugged, walking away. He had a lot of other things on his mind.

Older Charlotte siblings rarely protected Pudding from the excessive bullying she suffered from the local teens since Lola’s untimely departure, because what they saw was a little sister fully capable of defending herself. Nobody recognized an unbalanced mental condition as a problematic illness, because why would they? Twisted psyche had been prevalent within their family since Charlotte Linlin was six years old. It passed down to the next generation when Perospero was raped at eight, when Amande pulled a blade to torture at nine, and when Katakuri massacred almost a hundred men at ten and completely broken down from personal betrayal at twenty-two.

As far as this family was concerned, where no one was spared from varying degrees of insanity, there was nothing wrong at all with Charlotte Pudding.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Mom Pirates in the earlier days were the ultimate New World underdog with everything stacked against them, at least on paper. They tended to let verbal insults slide even in present day, since they got used to constant trash-talking from when younger.
> 
> Galette’s story arc is complete, tying back to explain the reason she went with Mont-d’Or and Cracker (Ch1.). Praline’s demand (Ch2.) and Poire’s troubles (Ch5.) happening at the same time is to show why it was impossible for Katakuri to always be there for everybody, tho he tried. Nougat character design really does look like he is cosplaying a katakuri flower. See comparison  
> http://fakescorpion.tumblr.com/post/182885221712/
> 
> Flampe leads the Special Force Unit of Tottoland at fifteen, and is a skilled marksman capable of shooting moving targets at distance without sniperscope, hinting that she does possess high levels of observation haki. Mosa-Mosa Fruit is a semi-canon devil fruit owned by non-canon character Binz in _Film Z_ , it was given to Kato due to plot necessity, based on his design and occupation as Seeds Minister.


	6. Glossary (life)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moscato was always a boy. He sought to fix the mistake Mama made by giving him the wrong body.
> 
> featuring:  
> Moscato, Perospero, Compote

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon, as heteronormative is impossible for Charlotte family: Perospero is gay based on hints in his character design, Katakuri is asexual since he is mirror-Luffy, Smoothie and Cinnamon are lesbians due to canon personality, and Moscato is trans male because it makes sense to me.

**Glossary (life)**

~ 38 to 37 years ago ~  
Moscato (age 2 to age 3)

Charlotte Moscato was born by mistake the tenth daughter of the Charlotte family, and he fought throughout his early childhood to be rightfully recognized as a son.

At the time their family was split into two uneven groups. Nusstorte quadruplets at four years old was the eldest set of siblings Moscato knew, follow by the single child Noisette one year younger. They all treated Moscato as a little sister, which was the primary cause that leaded to much of his frustration. Moscato’s fraternal triplets Mash and Cornstarch on the other hand were sympathetic of his predicament, both willing to go along at his request, and called themselves the tenth and eleventh Charlotte daughters. Compo and Laurin however were too young and stubborn, they adamantly refused to compromise their status as the seventeenth and eighteenth Charlotte sons. So technically, in a way, Charlotte Moscato did not exist as part of their family during the first few years of his life.

Mama did not care either way, too busy with her pirate career under another captain’s flag, to pay much heed to her children’s emotional wellbeing. The ROCKS Pirates eventually collapsed, and then soon after, when the original fifteenth Charlotte son suddenly _vanished_ into thin air.

Noisette was almost three years old at the time. The entire incident confused him to no end, but he did not mind adjusting his status to the fifteenth son at his younger sister’s desperate plea, so that Moscato could be the sixteenth son instead.

Nusstorte absolutely hated Moscato for this, since what she did was essentially erasing his youngest quadruplet brother’s existence from family consciousness. Basskarte pulled him back before he could do anything to actually hurt his stupid gender-ambiguous little sister, because Moscato was barely two years old. Their little sister was too small still, to understand the abstract concepts of life and death.

.

Things only got more complicated when their whole family reunited about a year later. Moscato was three years old at this time and was forced by Chef Streusen, again, to wear a frilly yellow skirt. That put Moscato in a foul mood, so he hid inside the shared bedding quarters and sulked, only peeking out a window when commotion sounded on deck. It was the first time he saw his eldest brother, thirteen-year-old Charlotte Perospero.

Brother Perospero was... astonishingly pretty, to say the least, Moscato’s initial impression actually mistook him for an older sister. Perospero wore a red high collar mini-dress with cornflower blue trimming and cropped trousers, his lips and fingernails were brightly painted, and he was licking a lollipop as he strolled confidently onboard their ship. Enlightenment hit Moscato like a sack of potatoes at once. His eldest brother could wear a dress if he so wished, then there should be absolutely no reason Moscato himself could not wear pants, right?

Moscato ditched his yellow skirt immediately afterwards, and raided Brother Noisette’s dresser for something that would fit.

Meanwhile Chef Streusen walked out on deck with a greeting, caught sight of Perospero, then proceeded to drop the entire collection of cooking utensils in his hand. The fifty-year-old man had his mouth gaping wide open and his brain temporarily shutting down, unable to comprehend how five years apart could turn his only son into... he didn’t even know. Streusen drank himself into stupor that night, lamenting on his life choices.

.

~ 36 years ago ~  
Perospero (age 14), Compote (age 14)

Poach Town on Rover Island was those places in the New World completely overran by pirates. Dingy bars with signs falling apart, customers gambling away their wallets alongside their lives, vocal disputes escalating into clashing of blades. Guffaws and screams echoing down streets filled to the brim with the stench of alcohol, blood, and piss.

Chef Streusen was handing out allowance money on deck of the Big Mom Pirates ship _Lullaby Chanter_ , to the Charlotte children over the age of ten, with instructions to the even younger ones to always stay by their older siblings side. Very few were paying him much attention though, too excited by the prospect of land after weeks of sea. Streusen turned to Linlin in his exasperation, hoping for additional help reining in her exuberant kids. It was however, an exercise in futility.

Charlotte Linlin was a beautiful young woman of thirty-two, standing at almost nine meters tall, with an attitude as immature as her kids. She did not care that half of her underaged children were running wild on a dangerous island clustered with potential enemies. Linlin was only interested in her own entertainment, her next conquest, since she had given birth to her fifth pair of twins High-Fat and Tablet a month ago and already ditched their father overboard. A convergent location for pirates was the perfect place for some raunchy fun.

“I’ll make sure to get everyone back on the ship before nightfall,” Perospero gave the small chef a reassuring pat on the back. He skipped over the taffrail, landing on the wooden port planks with elegant ease. Perospero was fourteen and getting taller by the months, over two meters now and his ankles could be seen beneath ill-fitting pants.

Compote walked up beside her shorter fraternal twin with a soft smile. Her resemblance to their Mama was growing more apparent day by day, her slight curvaceous figure showing in too-tight dress that now clung on like miniskirt. “We need to buy new clothes again,” Compote observed, pulling out a detailed checking list of necessities they needed to procure. “Katakuri and Oven are staying behind to guard the ship, so we need to get new clothes for them as well. Hmm, trousers at least. I think they have already given up on ever owning shirts that fit. Triplets are shooting up like bamboo stalks in the spring.”

Daifuku passed them with a grunt, making a beeline towards the garment district. “Count me out, Sister Compote. I’m not into exhibitionism like those morons.”

They chuckled, going their separate ways.

.

For the residents of Poach Town, it was quite a peculiar sight, to see so many carefree children racing down the streets. Laughing and joking around, as if this chaotic criminal town was a common schoolyard playground. On a second glance however, they would notice the kids were all armed, with guns seemingly too large for their small hands and swords too long for thin wrists.

Ah, people observing the scene finally understood, and smirked. Big Mom Pirates had a rather funny reputation among the underground society.

Little girls with varying shades of lavender and violet hair danced past crews of hulking men, in revealing short skirts and sweet perfume, like defenseless sheep walking through a wolf pack. People had yet to learn about pretty baits and guillotines at this time, with the Charlotte kids so young in their years. When someone repugnant reached out an unwanted hand, an entire arm was sliced off instead.

Charlotte Cracker was nine and a self-taught beginner in armament haki, protecting his sisters as their most wary shepherd hound. He glared at a tiny dent on the tip of his sword, and chucked the disappointing weapon to the side, stealing another from the fallen man’s waist.

“Cracker, you got blood on my dress,” Broye whined, scrunching her nose in disgust. Brulee produced a handkerchief, to help her sister scrub the stain away, though it didn’t really work.

“Sorry,” Cracker muttered, distracted as he twirled the curved saber, but also found the new weapon unsatisfactory. “Damn, Chef Streusen didn’t give me any money for a better sword.”

Angel however surveyed the adult men who were slowly backing away, having finally realized these children were far more dangerous than they initially seemed. She stretched out her hand, palm up and absolutely without remorse. “Hey, misters! Give us your money, my brother needs a new sword,” Angel then unholstered her gun with a click, smiling so sweetly. “Or we beat you up and take whatever we want by force.”

.

Charlotte Moscato was four, too young to wander alone unsupervised, but he sneaked off the ship unnoticed by the busy old chef. Brother Katakuri gave him a side glance from the figurehead, to show that he knew, but made no move to stop his enthusiastic younger sibling—he never truly figured out Moscato’s gender, concluding it as another unsolvable mystery in their lineage after Oven’s hair that had somehow turned gradient since beginning of puberty earlier this year. Katakuri would always be too lenient when it came to family.

Moscato strolled down the dirty crooked streets, eventually making his way into a stage bar filled with cigar smoke and heavy music, the sign read _Comer’s Pub_. The woman on the dais was barely clad in anything, dancing around a metal pole enchanting the room with her sultry moves. Moscato found Brother Peros and Sister Compote there, drinking with a larger group of men. Moscato ignored the strangers and went straight to his older siblings.

“You are too young for a place like this, honey,” Compote said with a smile, beckoning a waiter over to order an additional glass of juice.

“It’s boring back on the ship,” Moscato pouted.

A guy at their table put down his beer tankard with a thump, there was a cutlass on his waist. “Hey, man. You two are with them Big Mom Pirates?”

Perospero rolled his eyes. “What give it away, perorin~” Perospero asked sarcastically. He pulled at the front of his shirt, where the emblem of a skull with bushy pink hair and prominent lips could be clearly seen on the left side of his chest.

“But you’re not a kid,” the man stated dumbly.

Perospero tilted his head. “I know we don’t look the part being on the taller side, but my sister and I are only fourteen, perorin~”

“Thought so! Big Mom Pirates are a bunch of useless brats, and their mama is a whore,” a voice hollered from across the room. The entire tavern bursted into loud obnoxious guffaws.

“I heard she’s very hot,” someone else called out in glee. “So you kids gonna call me _daddy_ , once I fuck your mom?”

More roars of laughter and wolf-whistling.

Moscato gripped a fork tightly, so angry, but his older sister placed a gentle hand on his shoulder with a small shake of her head. Moscato understood that if things escalated into a brawl, he would only get in the way.

A man stank of cheap booze grabbed Perospero’s chin. “No wonder you looked like someone’s bitch. You know what people said? Like mother, like son?”

Perospero slapped the man’s hand away, scowling. “Don’t touch me, perorin~”

“Or what? Run home and cry to your mommy?”

Compote got up with a frown, “We’re leaving.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be like that, beautiful gal. Don’t leave so soon,” another man said, grabbing her upper arm, “Bet you’re a slut, too, just like your mama. Why don’t you get on the stage and spread your gorgeous legs for us?”

Compote sighed. She really did not like to get her hands dirty, but she reacted in sync with her twin brother all the same. The cracking of bones and a choked off cough, Compote snapped the man’s wrist clean, her strength unparalleled among her siblings, just as Perospero dropped a newly crafted candy corpse onto the ground. The tavern abruptly silenced, with the loudest sound from the pathetic sobbing man clutching his broken arm. There were hushed murmurs of _devil fruit user_ and soft clanking of blades.

“We’re leaving,” Compote stated again.

Nobody stopped them this time.

“Sorry I ruined it,” Moscato muttered as they made their way down the streets, kicking a pebble. “I know we’re not very popular.”

“Never mind those idiots, perorin~” Perospero said with a huff, ruffling his younger brother’s hair. “There are other things we can do around town.”

Perospero and Moscato chatting amiably as they walked, over anything that caught their interest. Compote however was uncharacteristically quiet. She was thinking, with a disturbed look to her face. Hurried footsteps chased after them before they turned down the next street. It was the woman who had performed on stage, now with a flimsy overcoat covering her body.

“... I want to join you,” the woman blurted out, except... her voice was very deep, like a man’s. “My crew is the Sunday Pirates, our captain was killed two weeks ago and we are kind of stuck here in a limbo. I don’t want to be a stripper for the rest of my life, please, I’m begging you. Let us join under your captain’s banner, we’ll do anything.”

That was an unexpected change of events.

.

When Charlotte Linlin returned to her ship three days later, she brought back a new husband that gave most her children pause. That guy was the tallest man they had ever seen, at over six meters, with disproportionate long legs and tribal tattoos on his exposed thighs, meaning their next papa was a member of the longleg tribe. Mixed-blood siblings were few among the Charlotte children at this time, with only the quadruplet sisters as half-snakenecks. It was understandable that shy children would be hesitant to accept the unknown.

Mondee at eleven years old was very polite and personable. She was the first to tentatively offer her hand and acknowledgment. The rocky road to overcome racial discrimination was not easy, and the first step to bridge that gap was taken this day by a young child.

In the meantime, Linlin’s children also prepared a couple surprises for her.

Sunday Pirates consisted mostly of okamas with a dozen women. It was not difficult to understand why they would choose to follow a crew of children, with their woman captain, considering the downtrodden treatment they had experienced on the island from fellow men. They were renamed Sundae Pirates, to make it easier for the younger Charlotte kids to remember. Incidentally, they were how Moscato learned about Kamabakka Kingdom on Momoiro Island and the ‘Miracle Princess’ Emporio Ivankov, located at the far side of Red Line, on a stretch of sea aptly known as Paradise.

There was another group however, of over two hundred bulky men. Quite a few among them were grievously wounded, with one conspicuously missing an entire arm.

“Orange Pirates want to join our crew, Mama!” Cracker called, beaming at his much taller mother. “They are nice to buy me and Custard new swords!”

Captain of the Olango Pirates swallowed, realizing the child had completely butchered their name, but was too afraid to correct the unintentional mistake. He was among the very first to recognize the terrifying potential this group of children possessed, were actual monsters in the making in perhaps a decade’s time. Charlotte siblings though never seemed to act any different, no matter their age. Children when young and children-at-heart once older, innocent in a twisted way as they played and sang, collecting candies and sweets around the world, to build a fantasy utopia from unrealistic childhood fairytale.

This unconventional value was another reason that made the Charlotte family so feared. A mother who never truly grew into adulthood, and her children were deadly paper dolls serving her whims. This was what happened when children incapable of truly differentiate right from wrong wielded tremendous power to do whatever they wanted. The story of Charlotte Linlin’s entire life and the story of Big Mom Pirates as a whole.

Sundae Pirates and Orange Pirates were the first outlier crews to join underneath Charlotte Linlin’s flag, that would become the Big Mom Pirates Fleet. They would eventually expand, into the military might of an empire.

.

~ 29 years ago ~  
Moscato (age 11), Perospero (age 21)

When Charlotte Moscato was eleven, his body began to betray him. His chest was becoming more pronounced, ached sometimes, and then there was the bleeding. He was sick, his skin too tight. Everything felt just this side of wrong, and he was slowly going crazy. Moscato sat cross-legged on a shore, watching the distant silhouette of another nameless island as setting sun kissed the sea, and he remembered Kamabakka Kingdom. One chance at a miracle cure, beyond the horizon, so far away.

Sundae Pirates had been loyal to the Big Mom Pirates for many years. They could take Moscato to Kamabakka Kingdom on Momoiro Island, a return trip that would take up to a year, but they refused to do so without the captain Charlotte Linlin’s permission.

Mama said no of course, son or daughter, made no difference to her.

Moscato didn’t know what else to do. It had been six years since their family first settled down on this uninhabited special island and claimed it as their own, one year since given name to the city they built that was their base of operation and home. Whenever Charlotte Linlin went on raids these days, she would leave behind half of her children, to act as safeguards. Moscato however knew the truth.

This place was actually a beautiful prison, a designer doll house to hold the invaluable paper puppets that were the Charlotte kids. Mama gave them resources to manage a city, but she never leave behind any _ships_.

Moscato sat on the shore, contemplating the feasibility of swimming across the ocean. He could reach the next isle within this archipelago, and the next, and the next, pushing his body to the very limit. Still, he could not swim to the other side of the world.

Moscato was imprisoned on this island. Suffocating, like his wrong skin.

.

Charlotte Perospero knew a lot of his younger siblings spent much time on the shore, with eyes fixed on the horizon. They were children of the sea, born on the sea. It was ludicrous to expect them all to be content with land-bound life on an island so small that a round trip take less than a day.

Katakuri and Daifuku took up a pastime, racing each other in freestyle stroke to different islands within the archipelago on their off days, to sate their desire for new adventure. They were the first to crudely map the surrounding area of their home. Oven—devil fruit user since he was ten—could not join his blood brothers on their swimming contest. In his boredom, he started figuring out ways to use his ability on the sea. Oven’s creative talent proved devastating in combat, when he discovered he could sink invading enemy fleets from a distance.

It was supposed to be for good fun, except more and more of their younger siblings wanted to mimic, wishing to see the unexplored islands around their home. Children so small they did not possess enough stamina to reach the next island before they risk drowning.

Perospero racked his brain for a solution, delicate spun glass could float on water by encapsulating free air, it should not be beyond his capability. So, Perospero attempted the improbable by crafting devil fruit constructs capable of carrying people across the sea. Perospero would do anything for his family, even if it meant challenging the common knowledge of the curse that decreed devil fruit users to always sink. Big Mom Pirates in the present day boasted the most versatile devil fruit arsenal in terms of naval warfare, because when they were young, they were trapped on a tiny island with nothing to do but watch the sea.

And then the day came, when Moscato tentatively asked his eldest brother, whether it was possible to build an entire ship.

.

Charlotte Linlin was furious when she returned, and saw a candy ship sparkling like brilliant sapphire underneath the sun. It was only a caricature, with no sail and no crew, incapable of travel, but that did not pacify her anger. All the evidence was before her eyes, that soon, nothing—not even the vast expanse of endless harsh sea—would stop her children from leaving. Just like her friends from a bygone childhood dream, just like the Mother she so cherished. Everyone she loved always LEAVING her behind.

Perospero did not let Moscato shoulder the blame. Mama hit him once, for the first time striking her own child with intent, without mercy. Perospero was confined to a hospital bed for two days due to busted internal organs, and had to walk with a cane for two months, this habit that would last for his lifetime in the form of a candy staff.

Moscato was sorry, apologizing profusely to his eldest brother. Moscato would live for the rest of his life in this wrong body, if it meant sparing his older siblings further pain.

Perospero however was having none of that, because this was a problem bigger than a simple childish wish. It was their autonomy and freedom. Of how much they were worth as individuals, as people, living and breathing.

Charlotte Perospero was twenty-one years old now, and that was the moment he realized his mother never truly grew up. Perospero thought back on the life he had, where he had to feed children since he was eight, to soothe their tears and sang them to bed, the actual parent to his younger siblings in everything but name. Perospero would get them their freedom, even if it cost him everything. He raised his right hand, letting candy syrup flow from his palm, to create a rainbow-swirl lollipop.

Red as cherry, red as blood.

Black as licorice, black as heart.

.

“Give me a ship, Mama,” Perospero said. “I want to take Moscato to Momoiro Island, but I promise we will return within one year, to prove to you that family bond can transcend distance and time.”

“And if you don’t?” Linlin asked her eldest son. “I brought you to this life, what are you going to repay me in return, should you choose instead to abandon me?”

Perospero closed his eyes, holding the red-black lollipop on a stick in his hand. He took a deep breath, standing at the precipice.

“I am willing to return this life I owe you.”

.

The first roulette was actually very simple, no pictures, just numbers in a circle.

Fifty.

Sixty.

Seventy.

Eighty.

Ninety.

... ... a hundred.

“I will return every last second back to you, once you come back home,” Linlin told her eldest son. “But only then, and not a moment sooner.”

Perospero nodded.

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you for everything.”

.

They were gathered at the port. The ship and crew agreed upon by their mother were about ready, last minute preparations before setting sail. The younger Charlotte children were excited at the prospect of new ships, knowing it could mean they would have their own in the future, ignorant of the sacrifice their older siblings offered to make this semblance of freedom possible.

“How many years did you spin away?” Katakuri asked quietly. He was nineteen, barely older than teenager, and he was already feeling the weight of their entire family on his shoulders.

Perospero turned away. “Does it matter, perorin~?”

“So, you could die tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have to do this?”

Perospero watched his younger siblings cheering on the harbour. Moscato had grateful tears in his eyes, to have this chance at the impossible, to fix a mistake made by nature. Mash gave him a tight embrace, Cornstarch fussed over his coat. This small step of a child’s dream, was the change they all needed for the limited liberty they held.

That was his answer.

Perospero turned back to Katakuri, and smiled. “Anything for family,” he said, and then came closer, to place a nondescript piece of white paper into his younger brother’s palm, before gently closing his fist. His vivre card, his life.

“So you will know when. If... if I, well... ... ”

Katakuri clung on to the card, a lifeline.

.

Some among the eldest Charlotte siblings never truly feared their Mama. Compote, Katakuri, Cracker, to name a few. Charlotte Perospero however was not one of them, because there was once about a year in his life when he lived—every day—expecting it to be his last.

The roulette game was very fair.

After all, the first to spin that deadly wheel once upon a time, was none other than Charlotte Linlin’s own beloved eldest son. It was very fair.

.

~ present year ~  
Perospero (age 50)

He liked to talk to them, those who—too—spun the fortune wheel to gamble away the souls, before sending them off on their last voyages. Perospero was naturally curious, what treasures lie beyond the horizon for each unique individuals, that worth so much more than life.

They all assumed he would not understand.

People nowadays only knew him as the eldest son of the Emperor Charlotte Linlin. Thought to be a child born to privilege with a silver spoon on his tongue, the pampered prince who would one day inherit a wealthy throne.

None ever once considered the reason behind his odd sympathy. None ever once asked him in return, what had he spun the roulette wheel for?

If they had asked, Perospero would not be hesitant with his answer.

Perospero wagered his life, proving to his mother that family bond would not be broken by distance, by time. Perospero was the reason his younger siblings were allowed to have homes away from Whole Cake Island, were allowed to own ships and fleets, and were trusted with independent raid missions that would take them out to sea months at a time. Perospero’s answer would always be, anything for family.

Pedro ‘of the Treetops’ left a lasting impression. He could be regarded to as the first publicly known individual to return back to Tottoland after spinning that wheel. The only one, after Perospero himself.

He did it for a future not yet dawned.

When Pedro grabbed onto Perospero’s leg and pulled out the bombs, with resolute determination in his single remaining eye. Perospero understood, here was a glimpse of the treasure that worth so much more than life.

.

The jaguar mink’s bombs was one of those rare occurrences that managed to genuinely surprise Katakuri, so uncommon in these days, solely because foreknowledge told him Brother Perospero should be fine in the next five minutes.

In the next five minutes.

In the next five minutes.

In the next five minutes.

Katakuri had kept his older brother’s vivre card on his person at all times since that day, almost thirty years ago. Carefully stored within his body, next to his own beating heart.

Here was another secret.

Katakuri knew Perospero survived that mink’s desperate suicide bombing, even though he did not see his older brother through the smoke, before being dragged reluctantly into the Mirror World by the worst generation pirate Monkey D Luffy. Katakuri already knew, before receiving that confirmation call from his older brother. The vivre card was intact, was all the evidence he needed.

Otherwise, Charlotte Katakuri would not have been in the casual mood to waste the first thirty minutes playing with his food... and the last thirty minutes playing with his friend.

Otherwise, tale of Pirate King might’ve ended here.

In Tottoland.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The roulette looks like a rainbow-swirl lollipop, now you know why.


	7. Binder (Newsan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twenty-two sets of multiple births, six sets of identical siblings. Who said all of them were born healthy?
> 
> featuring:  
> Newsan, Newshi, Tablet, Oven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decuplets all have different personalities in canon, and not interchangeable. I didn’t make those up.

**Binder (Newsan)**

“If you could have any devil fruit in the world, which one would you pick?”

.

There were twenty-two sets of multiple births within the Charlotte family, among them were six sets of identical siblings.

Opera, Counter, Cadenza, Cabaletta, and Gala were a set of identical quintuplets. Opera looked very different from his brothers due to a horrific incident, when he was burned alive as a child, and had to recreate his own flesh and skin with devil fruit power for survival.

Chiffon and Lola were a pair of identical twin girls, which was unfortunate. After Lola abandoned her family name and ran away from home, Chiffon suffered in her place at their Mama’s hand, as a result of their too similar appearance.

The fraternal decuplets were actually two sets of identical quintuplets born on the same day. They might appear indistinguishable for outsiders, but they had very distinct personalities.

Dolce and Dragee were the youngest, and the most similar in terms of both appearance and personality. There were still enough differences however, Dolce being overall more polite while Dragee could be quite demanding.

There was actually another pair of identical boys within their family, that most people were unaware. They were High-Fat and Tablet, though they seemed to share no resemblance at first glance. They had the exact same facial structure, except High-Fat was the tallest of all Charlotte children standing at almost seven meters in height, while Tablet would always be among the smallest. There was a good reason for this. You see, when they were still developing within Mama’s round belly, during second trimester of pregnancy, they were struck by a rare disorder. _Stuck twin syndrome_ was a complication of disproportionate twin-to-twin blood transfusion that nearly costed them their lives, and Charlotte Linlin’s unique iron physique made emergency caesarean delivery to rescue them impossible. Charlotte High-Fat and Charlotte Tablet were this close, to become the only set of Charlotte siblings to die within mother’s womb.

After many years of experience, brothers and sisters of the Charlotte household generally had no trouble telling apart their identical siblings, doubly so for the eldest within their family. That was, except for the five decuplet sons, who to this day still confused the hell out of everybody, despite being objectively quite dissimilar.

There was also a good reason behind this odd phenomenon, and this was their story.

.

~ 18 years ago ~  
Tablet (age 18), Oven (age 30)

A great majority of Charlotte children grew up to become chefs. Not surprising, considering who their Mama was. Nevertheless, a few of them opted different occupations in their adulthood to contribute to their family empire.

Mont-d’Or at twenty was a food connoisseur for example, with seven-year-old Mobile as his disciple. Noisette at twenty-three prided himself in financial management and accounting, crucial for their family to run a country, and he worked as the Finance Minister on Kinko Island. There was also young eleven-year-old Praline, she wanted to become a fashion designer.

Another brother of note was Nusstorte, who had been a skilled craftsman since his youth. He made a bicorne capable of creating tornadoes for himself, concealed flamethrowers for Basskarte, and a magnetic hover-blade for Dosmarche. Nusstorte was twenty-four now and the renowned Big Mom Pirates shipwright, that built the final homie ship to house his youngest quadruplet’s soul. He also designed the entire Tottoland Fleet, governing over Package Island as the Transport Minister.

Charlotte Tablet was like them. He was eighteen, an experienced surgeon, and the go-to Big Mom Pirates ship doctor on the occasions their core family reminisced the older days and traveled on _Queen Mama Chanter_ as an elite crew.

Tablet learned very early on, that survival should never be take for granted, since he began his life fighting against a syndrome that nearly killed him and his brother in their Mama’s womb. Tablet as the _STS donor_ was born anemic and dangerously underweight, while High-Fat the _STS recipient_ was plethoric and drastically oversized. It was fitting in a way, that Tablet would eventually be the Charlotte child to study in the medical field. Incidentally, his food-based name happened to also be the measured unit for medicine.

Tablet was in the Whole Cake Chateau fourth floor infirmary office, on his twentieth day of absolute no rest living off cappuccino and sugar cubes. Tablet was close to breaking his personal sleep deprivation record, had permanent dark circles under his eyes, and he was reading through Dr. Hogback’s thesis on organ transplant concerning devil fruit users.

Speaking of devil fruits.

There was a rare handful of devil fruits listed in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, that had potential for medical use. Tablet would massacre cities to get his hand on one of those.

‘Okama Queen’ Emporio Ivankov of Kamabakka Kingdom had the Hormone Fruit, but Tablet was forbidden from going after her because Brother Moscato owed a life debt. Information on the Stitch Fruit that Tablet wasted two solid months on turned out to be a bust, the last known location of the Heal Fruit was from fifty years ago, and the Phoenix Fruit was under another Sea Emperor’s protective umbrella.

God, he was distracted.

Tablet stared at the paragraph he had been rereading for the tenth time, seeing double vision. Probably going to start hallucinating soon. He needed more caffeine in his veins.

Someone banged on the office door.

“Lord Tablet,” an intern wheezed, having ran from the top floor. “The Queen just went into labor, the midwives requested for your presence!”

Tablet nodded. He hopped onto his bighorn sheep, guiding it briskly down the baum hall toward the stairs. Tablet’s poor stamina had been a persistent reminder of his less than optimal health since birth. It didn’t hinder most daily activities, but for travel and combat, Tablet was given this animal mount to compensate.

Tablet met his older identical twin High-Fat outside the obstetrics delivery suite. Expected, since High-Fat was trained in nursing care, to assist his twin brother on the field. Though they normally did not participate in the medical team overseeing Mama’s childbirth, having a gazillion other more pressing patients to worry about on their plates, but this time was an exception. Prenatal screening with routine ultrasound showed ten babies in Mama’s womb, and two of them were giant infants. This would be the one time childbirth could actually threaten their invincible mother’s life.

Tablet and High-Fat got their hands cleaned and a change of clothes, before entering the customized delivery suite. Tablet went to talk to Mama first, while High-Fat got everything ready for the babies. Lamps over tables to keep the babies warm, clips for the umbilical cords, alcohol swabs, towels, and heated disinfected water.

Mama was not worried, having done this so many times before, when she had been alone with no midwives and nursemaids standing in attendance. It should not take very long.

Tablet pulled close the divide above the stomach area, knowing Mama preferred to not see the babies when they were bloody lumps of ugly flesh, so it would be the nursemaids job to get the newborn children clean. He got to work. There were so many this time, separated by gender into two groups to be given their predetermined names later, since during the chaos of childbirth when there were multiple babies, medical personnel couldn’t always keep proper track of the correct birth order. This was the reason multiple birth siblings never used honorifics for each other in the Charlotte household.

... Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Things were going well. Tablet was pleased, the sound of babies crying in the background was soothing music to his ears, knowing his new siblings’ small lungs were working as intended. Tablet was clearing away the last set of placenta, when he heard a nursemaid scream behind him.

Tablet was instantly alert, and he hurried to check on the elevated table platforms where his newborn little brothers were held. Two babies had their tiny arms around each other in a mock semblance of an embrace, one larger and one smaller. Tablet paled.

“How are my babies?” Charlotte Linlin asked her thirty-fourth son.

Tablet turned around, twisting his expression into something between grimace and smile. “They are perfect, Mama,” he replied. “We’ll get them cleaned, and be brought to you once you have your rest!”

Linlin was already thinking of all the snacks she missed though, and couldn’t wait for the homie bed to take her back to the Queen’s Chamber already.

Tablet shut the double door tightly behind his mother, and all he could think about was the numerous abominations helplessly pinned in a book collection. “High-Fat,” Tablet addressed his older twin, making a decision.

“Kill everyone. Leave no witness.”

Everyone else stared at him in silent horror. The nursemaids begged him for mercy, that fell completely on deaf ears.

“We cannot hide this from Mama,” High-Fat warned his younger brother a short while later, as he was washing his hands clean of innocent blood. “She knows she had a set of decuplets. We cannot just steal two of them away.”

“... we _can_ , we have to,” Tablet muttered. “They’re five identical brothers. We can deceive Mama, as long as she cannot tell three from five. We could surely do that, if all our older siblings agree to lie with us.”

“... but where are we going to hide them?” High-Fat asked. Tablet carefully considered.

Brother Perospero had an orphanage next door and nosy civilian children as daily visitors. Sister Compote was married, with husband and her own kids. Brother Katakuri was busy all the time. Brother Daifuku was ‘recently divorced’—killed his own wife—and unsuitable to look after children in probably ever.

So that left...

.

Three hours later Oven found his little brother Tablet loitering on the front porch of his personal mansion, built of stacked rye bread and borodino sourdough, located in Fukkura Town on Bakery Island. There was a crying bundle in his arms.

“If you had an illegitimate kid, you should take them to Brother Peros—”

“It’s not that, Brother Oven!” Tablet interrupted in a hurry. “They are Newsan and Newshi, our newborn little brothers!”

Oven immediately got serious. “What are they doing here, away from Whole Cake Island?”

“Please, they need help,” Tablet was basically begging. “I can’t let Mama see them, or she’ll pin them in a book.”

Oven’s expression darkened, he quickly let his little brother inside and shut tight the rosemary flatbread door. “Tablet, what happened to them?”

Tablet swallowed, gently removing the cloth covering the babies, so that his older brother could see for himself. Oven widened his eyes, speechless due to underprepared shock.

“... they, they are thoracopagus conjoined twins,” Tablet whispered, in despair.

Charlotte Newsan and Charlotte Newshi were born with their ribcages fused together and a single shared heart. Separation was impossible without sacrificing one brother to insure the other’s survival with that allotted heart. Tablet clenched his fists, thinking of devil fruits and miracles.

There was only one he knew that could fix this inborn curse of nature, and it was the most sought-after devil fruit in the world.

Ope-Ope Fruit, the Operation Fruit.

.

~ 18 to 13 years ago ~  
Oven (age 30 to age 35)

The reason Charlotte Oven was never married, despite being the second most eligible bachelor within Tottoland—after his brother Katakuri of course—was because... people genuinely thought he was already married. Understandable that townsfolk would put things together, after spotting the local governing Baking Minister buying baby formula in the market one day after Dr. Tablet’s visit, and arrive at the wrong conclusion.

Oven let the rumor fester. Being married to a nonexistent wife and raising phantom sons were better after all, than ruining the charade of the most elaborated long-con in Tottoland history.

To deceive their Mama, they had to deceive their entire civilian population, so everyone within the country _must_ believe this lie, that the five youngest princes and the five youngest princesses were all born normal. Perospero and Katakuri took the lead, by intentionally misnaming the three healthy decuplet boys in public, giving the illusion that Newsan and Newshi were always there. More of their siblings followed suit. A few were let in on this secret, while most others were honestly confused.

Oven was quite sure at least half of his siblings were certified insane, to collectively agree to trick their powerful vindictive mother. Himself definitely included, since he held the eye of the storm.

Newichi, Newji, and Newgo were only officially introduced to their conjoined brothers when they were four years old, after they understood the importance of always protecting family. The decuplet girls were introduced six months later the year they would turn five. They were all allowed to visit their blood siblings hidden on Bakery Island whenever they wanted, through the mirror, away from Mama’s attention. In the meantime, their older siblings searched tirelessly for that specific devil fruit cure.

.

Newsan (age 5), Newshi (age 5)

Brother Oven and Brother Tablet were fighting again. It was past bedtime, and faint echoes of their screaming voices could be vaguely heard through the rye bread walls.

Newshi supported Newsan with his arms, sitting cross-legged upon their malleable dough bed, because his designated older brother was so small and malnourished compared to him, like a child holding an infant. Their older brothers were not their parents, but for young five-year-old minds, the difference would not be so apparent. Their brother custodians were fighting again, and that was the worst experience in the world for two kids huddling in their room on the second floor.

They always quarreled over the same thing. Tablet needed to borrow Brother Oven’s battleship again, to go on a wild snipe hunt that would ultimately amounted to nothing but disappointment. Oven was fed up with his younger brother’s persistent suicide wish chasing after a delusional fantasy, since Tablet himself was not the best fighter within their family even without putting his health problem into consideration, and Oven worried that one day he would get send back home in a body bag. The verbal dispute between them this time was probably made worse, because for once, their lead on the Operation Fruit might actually be real, dangling in front of them just out of their reach.

The marines were going to buy the Operation Fruit for five billion beri, the trade was to take place in North Blue in less than a week. On the other side of the fucking Calm Belt.

“It is impossible for us to get there in time!” Oven hissed, rubbing his temple.

“We should at least try!” Tablet snarled.

“What do you expect to accomplish then? Feed a few more battalions worth of my TARTE soldiers to seakings for nothing?”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

“Of course you don’t! Those people that you kept getting killed were under my authority, my responsibility. Enough is enough!”

Newshi purposefully got out of bed, to slam the door of their room loudly shut. The shouting voices in the kitchen abruptly silenced, the two older brothers having finally realized they had roused their younger siblings from sleep.

Newsan leaned on his taller twin’s shoulder, with a heavy sigh. “... If Brother Tablet really wants to fix us, he should just cut me away and be done with it. I’m only a good-for-nothing parasite leeching off your life.”

“Please don’t say that,” Newshi murmured, he did not like hearing those words from his brother.

“You are a person, Newsan.”

.

The decuplet daughters visited next day afternoon, through the looking-glass. Nutmeg accidentally chipped the mirror frame in her haste, always so impatient with a fickle personality.

Sister Brulee was chatting amiably with the outgoing Allmeg a step behind, as she opened up the passage way for her younger sisters. Allmeg loved to social.

Akimeg entered the room next, bringing a batch of homemade cookies. Akimeg, kind and gentle, was the voice of reason to rein in her temperamental blood siblings. “I baked them myself,” Akimeg said with a soft smile, holding up the plate. “They don’t look that great, but tasted okay. Here, have some.”

“Thank you,” Newsan and Newshi said together, each taking a piece. The cookies were sprinkled with chocolates and almonds, a hint of cinnamon, and very delicious.

Fuyumeg threw herself on their conjoined brothers’ bed, kicking off her shoes. “Hey, do you two eat separately?” Fuyumeg asked. She could be crass and a little insensitive at times.

“Fuyumeg, don’t be impolite,” Akimeg chastised.

“I’m just curious!”

“We eat separately,” Newsan said with a grimace. He had to twist his head back to talk to his sisters, the position somewhat uncomfortable. “I have my own stomach.”

“Ohhh~” Harumeg singsonged. Harumeg was tall and carefree, with her head in the clouds, she reached over to take a cookie as well. “Yum.”

Allmeg waved goodbye to Sister Brulee who still stayed in the mirror, since she had other business to tend to. Allmeg then joined Fuyumeg on the bed. “We start our first training exercise today, trying out different toy weapons to see what fit.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It’s not,” Nutmeg pouted, twisting a strand of hair on her fingertip. “We have a hundred other siblings who can fight, I don’t get why it is necessary for us to learn as well.”

“You know why,” Newshi said, with a small frown. “It is important for us to contribute however we can, to the family empire.”

Newshi was as tall as Harumeg and the most mature of all decuplet siblings. His solemn outlook on life learned due to his unfortunate circumstance, and his emotions subdued, as opposed to his older conjoined twin. Newsan went in the complete opposite direction. He was melodramatic with a bipolar attitude, prone to episodes of depression.

“How about this~ We can bring a mirror along and you can watch us train tomorrow, it’ll be like a party!” Harumeg said, beaming brightly. “You can pick your weapons as well!”

Everyone stared at her.

“What?” Harumeg asked innocently.

“I don’t think Newsan and Newshi can ever learn to fight like us, Harumeg,” Fuyumeg said with a sigh. “They’re kind of stuck together, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Newichi and Newji caused enough trouble for all five of you anyway,” Nutmeg muttered with a nonchalant shrug. “Have you seen what they did to Nougat the other day? I mean, I do feel kind of bad for the kid, but that prank they pulled is actually pretty hilarious.”

Allmeg and Fuyumeg giggled.

“Great, so our brothers are out there ruining our reputation as well,” Newshi groaned.

Newsan was getting more dejected by the minute though. “What does it matter. It’s not like we can ever get out of this house anyway.”

Harumeg patted her small older brother on the head. “Don’t be sad. Brother Tablet and Brother High-Fat left with Sister Smoothie this morning, to go to the North Blue. I’m sure they will get that devil fruit in no time.”

Newsan was tired of getting his hopes up, only to have it inevitably crushed.

.

The other decuplet sons visited a week later, to tell them the mission was another failure.

Sister Smoothie intercepted the navy ship tasked to retrieve the Operation Fruit on Rubeck Island, but found nothing. They had a minor skirmish with Vice Admiral Tsuru’s crew on open waters on their way to Swallow Island—why was a high ranking marine headquarter vice admiral stationed in the North Blue was the baffling mystery—but then Admiral Sengoku personally showed up on the scene. Sister Smoothie was formidable, but not enough to take on an admiral with three times her life experience, retreat was the only option.

That was a depressing topic to dwell on for a whole afternoon, so Newichi searched his brothers’ room for another distraction. His eyes landed on the thickest volume tucked in the bookcase. Newichi promptly had an idea, and he went over to pull out the heavyset Devil Fruit Encyclopedia. “Let’s say, if you could have any devil fruit you want, which one would it be?”

“Eh, I don’t want one,” Newgo immediately replied. “Any type of power would get boring after a while, and I rather keep my ability to swim.”

Newji scoffed. “You are no fun.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Newgo said, standing up. “I’m going downstairs to get us something to drink.”

“Take your time. We all know you’d prefer to spend the afternoon with Brother Oven anyway,” Newji waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Because adult stuff is so much more ‘interesting’ right.”

Newgo rolled his beady eyes. “That is why people think you’re immature, Newji,” he said, before leaving, closing the door behind.

Newji pulled a face, turning back to his remaining decuplet brothers. “So, where were we?”

“About the type of devil fruit we want,” Newichi replied, rubbing his chin. “I really like Sister Galette’s devil fruit ability to be honest.”

Newsan and Newshi blinked in confusion. “Sister Galette has an ability?” Newsan asked, out of the loop. “Since when?”

“Two weeks ago, Sister Galette and Sister Poire got a devil fruit for their seventeenth birthday, from Sister Compote. They decided to let Sister Galette have it.”

“Oh. What was it?”

“Bata-Bata Fruit, it stands for butter,” Newichi sighed in disappointment. “I mean, we are named after butterfat for crying out loud, but nooo... Sister Galette somehow gets the ability that should have been ours instead.”

Newji laughed at his brother’s sour mood.

“Brother Katakuri has the Mochi Fruit, which is instead Brother Daifuku’s namesake, but you don’t hear them complaining,” Newji grinned, slapping at his knee. “Or better yet, you could get the Flour Fruit that should have been Brother Katakuri’s. The cycle would then be complete, so that none of our devil fruits make any sense.”

“Except Brother Peros and Brother Cracker, they’re lucky bastards.”

Newji took the encyclopedia from his brother, browsing through the content table. “Invisible Fruit seems awesome, imagine the pranks we could pull with that ability!” Newji said, flipping to a random page. “No, wait. This one is better. Snow Fruit can make me an all-you-can-eat ice cream buffet. Damn, there are even fruits for caramel and honey, I can’t choose.”

Newshi looked over his smaller brother’s shoulder. “Caramel Fruit is categorized as a lower class for Brother Perospero’s Candy Fruit.”

“Tasty all the same,” Newji grinned, turning another page. His face scrunched up. “Everyone, I think I just found the worst devil fruit in existence.”

Newichi leaned over to read. “Salt Fruit, yuck. What can you even do with salt anyway.”

“I’m starting to think you guys are just picking these at random,” Newshi said with a sigh.

“Which one do you want then, Newshi?”

“Well, I would probably choose something that could help out the family,” Newshi said after some consideration. “A zoan maybe, since none of our siblings have that.”

“Nobody has logia, either,” Newichi pointed out.

“Yeah but, Mama has Zeus and Prometheus, and they are better,” Newshi said. “So having a logia seemed kind of redundant if you asked me.”

“Zoan is a large category though,” Newsan said. “Anything more specific in mind?”

“Bug Fruit zoans,” Newshi replied without hesitation. “Not many people consider them of much value, but the limited creature manipulation ability unique to those zoans could actually be pretty useful. Ant Model or Centipede Model for example, those costal giant ants or aquatic centipedes could make an army if there was a way to tame them.”

Newji whistled. “You really did put a lot of thought into this.”

“Of course he did,” Newsan said. “Newshi has more brains than the rest of us put together.”

Newichi laughed. “What about you, Newsan? If you could have any devil fruit in the world, which one would you pick?”

“No, don’t—” Newshi was about to say.

“Page six hundred thirty-three,” Newsan interrupted loudly, his smile was suddenly too bright and entirely fake. Newshi pursed his lips, expression darkened in long-suffering frustration.

Newichi and Newji were confused, as they turned to the correct page.

“Gocha-Gocha Fruit, the Mix Fruit.”

“This is... an odd choice,” Newichi said slowly, reading the detail description.

“I want Newshi to have it!” Newsan continued, smile quivered and his voice trembled. “We were supposed to be the same person, Newshi and I. If he had this fruit, we could fuse back together, like how it should have been all along...! We could live life as how it should be. Free, to go outside and play, or train. Meet all our siblings.”

Newsan croaked. “... I want to actually show up for our birthday tea party, just once.”

_Even if I couldn’t really be there._

.

Oven stopped right outside the boys’ room, a tray of cold lemonade in his hand, with Newgo walking in smaller steps beside him. The ice cubes in the crystal glasses melted in an instant.

He heard everything.

“Brother Oven?” Newgo asked, reaching up to touch his older brother’s free hand. “Are you okay?”

Oven, didn’t know how to reply.

What should he even do, when his precious little brother truly sounded like he wanted to die?

.

~ 10 years ago ~  
Newsan (age 8)

Charlotte Katakuri brought home the Mix Fruit two months before the decuplets eighth birthday, in mid-autumn, and for the first time omitted report to Mama after a successful raid. Katakuri then went to Bakery Island, to deliver the fruit into his younger brother Oven’s hands. Much debate was carried out over this particular topic. There had never been any recorded case of conjoined twins eating a devil fruit before, so the end result would be anyone’s guess.

“If this fruit considered them the same person, the merge could be permanent,” Tablet said, glaring at the devil fruit like it held all the secrets in the world. “Irreversible.”

“So we prepare for the worst scenario, one of them cease to exist,” Perospero sighed.

“There should be a way to reduce risk,” Compote contemplated. “Katakuri, do you think your foresight could circumvent the danger, should the worst happen?”

Katakuri considered carefully. “If passive merging happened immediately after the fruit is consumed, I could foresee it and prevent them from eating the fruit,” he answered. “But...”

“What’s the catch?”

“If the unwanted outcome needed an active trigger, I would not be able to stop them from eating the fruit, only advise them against activating their merging ability,” Katakuri finished. “I suspect Newsan in particular would not heed my warning though. What do you think, Oven?”

Oven buried his head into his arms. He had been silent throughout the family conference, feeling sick and dizzy. He was very attached to those two boys, being the person to raise them.

Almost eight years.

But their wish. Their lifelong wish, to participate in their own birthday tea party.

“I think we should,” Oven swallowed.

“... let them decide.”

.

Newsan and Newshi received the Mix Fruit two days before their eighth birthday, at the beginning of winter that year, as an early present.

Tablet, High-Fat, and Katakuri came over and stayed at Oven’s place during this time, to keep eyes on their younger brothers, before the big decision. The devil fruit was placed within a lidded bowl upon the kitchen counter, it was very small, a single turquoise cranberry with tiny inky swirls. Newsan and Newshi having two whole days to think everything through.

“I won’t die, even if the worst happened,” Newsan said. He took turns glancing at his older brothers, each took time off their busy schedules for them, and perhaps this would be his goodbye.

“Brother Tablet, Brother High-Fat,” Newsan said, hugging the bowl close with shaky arms. “Thank you for saving us, even though we were some freaky newborn babies.”

“Newsan...” Tablet murmured sadly. “I am sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Brother Katakuri,” Newsan continued, picking up the discolored cranberry. “Thank you, for finding this for us.”

Katakuri nodded, but said nothing. He put a handkerchief into Oven’s hand.

Newsan then turned to the fourth son, feeling a sting at the corner of his eyes. “Brother Oven,” Newsan choked, swallowing back his tears. “Thank you for everything.”

Oven used the handkerchief Katakuri gave him to cover his own eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He didn’t want to be seen crying, especially in front of his younger siblings.

Finally, Newsan’s eyes landed on Newshi, his closest brethren and friend. He placed the devil fruit into his taller brother’s palm. “I won’t die. We will just become one person, together and free.”

Newshi took the cranberry, still somewhat reluctant as if it was a cursed object. The fruit tasted awful, leaving a disgusting sensation in his mouth. “Are you ready?” Newshi asked.

Newsan nodded his affirmation.

“ _Merge_ ,” Newsan and Newshi called as one, their body pulling together in a brilliant beam of sweet cranberry pink and devil turquoise blue light.

.

Newsan was disoriented and confused. The devil fruit should have worked, he should be... he shouldn’t be _aware_.

It should.

It should.

Newsan looked up to find his siblings gathered around him. Brother Tablet and Brother High-Fat, their eyes were wide in awe and grateful wonder. Brother Katakuri, expectant and pleased. Brother Oven seemed like he wanted to hug him, with arms awkwardly raised, and Newshi was...

Newshi.

He was kneeling on the floor beside him, half a meter away, and he was crying.

Tentatively, Newsan touched his own chest—ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump—the sound of a heart beating underneath. The Mix Fruit considered them different individuals, and acted accordingly, splitting them upon separation.

Not the same, not a mistake, unique.

 _Truly my own person._ Newsan clutched at his chest, heaving, and then he began to sob as well. Happy birthday to myself, Newsan thought, knowing his whole family would be waiting on Whole Cake Island, to celebrate this miracle.

Life was too precious and beautiful.

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chance of identical siblings is around 30% among multiple births, Big Mom having six sets matched statistics! _Twin-twin transfusion syndrome_ , or _Stuck twin syndrome_ , would affect approximately 15% of identical pregnancies—about one in six. High-Fat and Tablet were possible reference, since One Piece exaggerated their symptoms.
> 
> All necessary crew position for BM Pirates are filled now, hurrah~
> 
> If Katakuri had the Flour Fruit, he would totally fight like a fusion between Crocodile and Roy Mustang from FMA!


	8. Front Cover (dolls)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the youngest generation, a pretty face could worth more than combat capability. This was how the bisque dolls were made.
> 
> featuring:  
> Raisin, Panna, Pudding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter contain OC centric storytelling, with Charlotte/OC subplot.

**Front Cover (dolls)**

~ 10 to 7 years ago ~  
Raisin (age 12 to age 15)

When Raisin was twelve years old, Sister Lola ran away from home. It was a disaster and Mama was furious.

Incident with Prince Loki of Elbaf taught Charlotte Linlin one very important life lesson though, and that was how powerful an emotion love could be to overcome even decades of hatred. An ideal so potent, it could bring down kingdoms even more effectively than overwhelming brute strength.

Raisin was twelve when Mama told him, he was the most attractive among her many sons. After weary wrinkles lined Brother Perospero’s pretty features due to age, after a huge ugly scar marred Brother Cracker’s face, and after obesity ruined Brother Kanten’s physique. Raisin did not know why Brother Katakuri was disqualified, as he had no knowledge of his second oldest brother’s pelican eel teeth, but nevertheless. Raisin was stated to be the most handsome Charlotte son.

It was _not_ a compliment.

Love could not be replicated, but perhaps could thrive through artificial manipulation. Sister Lola had already proven that love at first sight was possible. An appealing appearance was the luring hook, an elegant courteous manner pulled taut the line, and a sweet promise of _happily ever after_ the final sinker. In theory it could be done, thus the day Sister Lola ran away from home and Sister Chiffon’s subterfuge wedding fell apart, was the day Raisin’s life turned completely upside down.

Charlotte Raisin at twelve and Charlotte Panna at eleven, were chosen as the first son and the first daughter to be burdened with duty to actively bait the population. A son and a daughter of course to cover for the entire potential target pool. From then on, Raisin and Panna were no mere child soldier among numerous Charlotte siblings. They were to be the porcelain dolls on display. Ornamental marionettes dancing on their strings for Mama to lure in her enemies, her preys.

Raisin and Panna were both thoroughly changed within a year, to someone unrecognizable compared to how they were before.

Raisin was no longer allowed to dress in slack clown costumes like his eccentric brothers, only pristinely pressed regalia that restricted his every movement, and lavish cape for fashionable decoration. Raisin wasn’t allowed to have his own hair cut, was told to let it grow long in young women’s preferred style, despite it always getting in the way during combat. He had to put makeup on his face, keep fingernails manicured, and shoes polished. He spent as much time practicing how to properly smile and courtesy in front of a mirror, as he did in swordsmanship.

Most pathetic of all, his brothers were forbidden from damaging his face in their training sessions. It was downright humiliating.

Panna had it both slightly better and infinitely worse, from the brusque tomboy she had been to the delicate little princess she was now. Men were generally easier to seduce than women, so Panna could achieve the same result within minutes as Raisin’s days of hard work, simply by showing off her thighs and batting her long eyelashes. The downside were the catcalling and the leers.

The decuplets started their training at eleven years old, shortly after Raisin was deemed a passable success after thirty months of trial and error. They spent half their time with Brother Counter and his wife, to learn the basics on armament haki and Cipher Pol techniques. The boys were required to fight without tearing their tailored bespoke suits and silk ties, nor damaging their quality leather shoes. The girls had to perform ‘Moonwalk’ and ‘Shave’ in five-inch heels and miniskirts, when marine soldiers twice their age had trouble mastering these skills in comfortable flats.

Charlotte Newji and Charlotte Nutmeg were the most rebellious. After months of torn clothes and bleeding ankles, Newji got to remove his tie and Nutmeg earned her right to wear hotpants. They still obeyed Mama in the end though, to train in leather shoes and high-heels.

The last project was Charlotte Pudding. She was flawless, and became Mama’s favorite.

.

Charlotte Raisin first put his talent to the test when he was fifteen, the universally agreed upon age that Charlotte children were required to proactively contribute to Mama’s utopian empire. The woman he was told to charm was twenty-eight, of average human height. Raisin was already tall compared to standard at this time, around three meters, so he faked his age by applying cosmetics to make himself seem older than he really was.

Brother Kato was frustrated with Mama’s decision, the abysmal catastrophe of his triplet Kanten’s marriage still fresh on his mind, having only put to an end just last year. Kato pulled Raisin aside on the day he would meet his first conquest, and gave him the most important advice.

“Don’t fall in love.”

Raisin nodded, taking the warning to heart.

Turned out Brother Kato need not have worried though, when Raisin began to realize what kind of person he had become, to satisfy Mama’s mercurial whims. The words that flung like daggers at him stopped hurting after a while, because that was what he truly was, underneath his beautifully crafted performance.

Monster. Demon. Fiend.

.

~ 3 years ago ~  
Raisin (age 19), Panna (age 18)

Domaine Merlot was the second daughter of King Domaine Montrachet, a princess of the wealthy Romanee-Conti Kingdom, the largest fine wine production in the world. Romanee-Conti Kingdom was affiliated with the World Government and among the few countries located in the New World that did not rely on any Sea Emperor’s mercy for their continued survival.

Merlot had an older brother who served as commodore in the navy, and an older sister that caught everyone’s fancy. ‘Fairy Princess’ Margaux was a renowned beauty around New World, with the enchanting voice of an angel. Margaux was not a real fairy of course, but the owner of a zoan devil fruit. Mushi-Mushi Fruit, Bug Fruit, Model: Butterfly. She could sprout a pair of translucent insect wings that reflected all colors of the rainbow, in addition to manipulate the local fruit butterfly kaleidoscope that allowed her country to grow the richest wine grapes in mass quantity.

Merlot the younger sister, was nothing remarkable.

Merlot was the perfect political tool.

Nobleman from Vidalia Island, second prince of Suzukii Kingdom, or the sovereign of Vinegar Country who already had four wives. Lecherous pigs that treated women like trophies, and among them was a man her father was going to choose at the end of this week-long annual social ball as her groom to secure a diplomatic alliance.

Merlot hated her life.

Margaux tried to console her little sister, but to no avail. Merlot was not in the mood to frolic with distasteful patrician snobs, so she left the dance hall while night was still young and wandered into the vineyard that was the pride of her land.

This was how she met him, running into each other amidst lush grapevines under pale moonlight. He was a handsome man in tailored attire wet with dewdrops from earlier rain, gloves and a katana, with long platinum hair tied in a ponytail and teal-colored eyes. He was very tall, Merlot of average human height only reached above his waistline.

The soil was muddy and slippery. Merlot lost her footing from being startled, and her frippery evening dress was snagged on a branch.

The man immediately bent his knees to place a hand gently beneath her elbow, so she wouldn’t accidentally fall. “Whoa, sorry for my negligence,” he apologized. “I wasn’t expecting a lady like yourself to be out at this time.”

Merlot pulled her arm back and inspected the young man suspiciously. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

“I am hiding from my entourage,” the man replied, straightening himself again, though mindful of the hanging grapes overhead. “I find the dance ball somewhat stifling, overflowing with pompous egos. I’m sure you can relate.”

Merlot coyly grinned. “That means you are also one of them, a pompous suitor with an ego.”

“Guilty as charged unfortunately,” he said with a soft chortle. “I am Charlotte Raisin, thirty-third prince of Tottoland, at your service.”

Merlot was immediately defensive, upon hearing that infamous surname. “You are a pirate,” she accused. “What are you doing in this country?”

Raisin raised his hands in the ubiquitous sign of surrender. “As a delegate of course,” he answered. “I admit I don’t want to be here, but alas, this country’s king has the bright idea to send an invitation to our place, so here I am.”

“I cannot believe this, my father... invited _pirates_?” Merlot uttered, incredulous.

“Your father...?” Raisin blinked in surprise. “Oh no, are you Lady Domaine Margaux? I am so sorry for my poor manners.”

Merlot crossed her arms and huffed. “Margaux is my older sister.”

Raisin blushed in deep scarlet, overwhelmed by intense embarrassment. “O-Oh, I made a mistake,” he stuttered. “I was told Lady Margaux is the most beautiful woman this side of the Grand Line, I did not know her younger sister is equally as breathtaking.”

Merlot pouted, turning away to hide her smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“A sense of humor, too!” Raisin childishly grinned, taking a dramatic bow. “What did I ever do to deserve such delightful company?”

“Murder and pillage perhaps?” Merlot joked.

“Ouch, straight for the jugular!” Raisin exclaimed, laughing. “Have mercy!”

Merlot giggled. She was actually enjoying this rascal’s antics, but the castle clock tower chose that moment to break the spell and chimed midnight. Merlot sighed, how time flew when she was just beginning to enjoy her nighttime stroll. “I should probably get back now.”

Raisin agreed, but crestfallen disappointment was clearly written across his expression. “Lady Merlot, before you leave, may I ask for a single dance?” Raisin murmured quietly, almost bashful as he awkwardly offered his hand. “I know this is a very selfish request on my part, and overstepping an acceptable boundary, but I fear I won’t ever have another chance.”

Merlot nodded, coming closer to slip her palm into his. She liked how easy it was to read this young man, unlike those duplicitous socialites of true nobility, Raisin showed all emotions on his face.

They waltzed to the sound of distant music drifting from the palace, under luminescent moonlight amid luxuriant grapevines, Raisin leaning down to accommodate Merlot’s smaller stature. They twirled and danced, one song after another, through these magical hours. Merlot did not return to the ball as per her father’s demand. She didn’t need to meet any of her other suitors after this night, for she might have already found her perfect match.

King Montrachet set up an arrangement for his second daughter to dine with the second prince of Suzukii Kingdom next day, as his preferred choice for her future husband. Merlot didn’t show up at all, much to her father’s chagrin, and went to meet Charlotte Raisin in the gardens.

Raisin prepared a serving of fruit salad in a boxed container for her, and a loaf of barmbrack bread with added sultanas. “I made these myself,” he admitted.

“Don’t you have servants to cook for you?” Merlot asked, genuinely curious.

“Yeah well,” Raisin shrugged. “I like to bake.”

Merlot nibbled at a slice of bread, the sweet taste lingered on her tongue. “This is delicious,” she said softly, in wonder. “Prince Raisin of Tottoland, you are truly not what I expected at all.”

Raisin tilted his head. “As a pirate, or as a prince?”

“Both,” Merlot chuckled. “You are so odd, but in a good way.”

“I’m glad, that your impression of me is positive,” Raisin said. “You are so different from what I am used to. It is quite an enjoyable relief, spending time with you.”

Merlot adjusted the folds of her sleek dress. “Is life so stressful living in Tottoland?”

That was a complex question, Raisin considered his answer. “I think the best way to describe it is, free, but at a price.”

“Doesn’t that contradict itself?”

“Perhaps,” Raisin admitted, a little sad. “I am not a good man, Lady Merlot. My mother is a very cruel woman and she does not tolerate failures, we are all her puppets in that parody of paradise called Tottoland.”

Merlot placed a gentle hand on Raisin’s forearm and felt him tremble. She thought of her own father and the suffocating life she had, and understood the Charlotte son’s difficult predicament. “You fear your own mother.”

“Yes, but that is no excuse. I’ve still done my share of bad things for my family,” Raisin said, shameful. “I am no different from any of my other brothers, and you know of our reputation.”

Merlot touched his cheek. “You showed remorse, and that makes you kinder.”

Raisin swallowed, taking a deep breath. “You are very compassionate, Lady Merlot. Thank you.”

Raisin planted a chaste kiss on her fingertips later that night, before he vanished into the underbrush of the gardens, with a promise to meet again. They did not have much time left, with the countdown clock rapidly ticking away the days. Romanee-Conti Kingdom’s annual dance ball was coming to an end, and soon Merlot would be betrothed to someone she didn’t love.

.

On the last day, Merlot made a choice. When Raisin showed up with a strawberry bouquet in her parlor veranda on the fourth floor, she welcomed him into the palace and took him to the royal privy guest chamber. “I am going to officially introduce you to my family,” Merlot told him. “The only chance to change my father’s mind. You are a much better candidate than that conceited prick from Suzukii Kingdom. Now, make yourself presentable.”

Raisin straightened himself at attention, pulling a twig from his messy platinum hair. It hadn’t been easy climbing onto the balcony. “I’ll do anything, for an exceptional maiden as yourself,” Raisin said, bending down to brush his lips against her temple. “I love you. I won’t let you down.”

Merlot laughed, a heavy load already lifted off her chest. She sincerely hoped everything would work out fine, before leaving him in the room to get ready. She went to look for her own family.

Merlot ran into her older sister just down the hall, and Margaux immediately noted her good mood.

“What’s the occasion?” Margaux asked, pleasantly amused. “I thought you would be sulking this whole day, due to our father’s decision. I am actually on my way to find you.”

Merlot pulled a face. “I’m still unhappy about that,” she grumbled, before beaming. “But I think there is a way to change his mind!”

“Oh?”

“I found someone better!” Merlot said proudly. “He is the prince from a wealthy archipelago kingdom, educated and noble. I have high hope that our father will approve.”

Margaux quirked her lips curiously, tucking a strand of silken lavender hair behind her ear. An emerald earring glistened, reflecting the warm light. “I am intrigued by the sort of men to defrost your frigid heart, little sister,” Margaux joked playfully. “Would it be inappropriate for me to meet him in advance? I will put in a good word for you.”

“He is waiting in the guest chamber, but don’t try to seduce him, dear sister. It will not work,” Merlot said slyly with a grin.

Margaux chuckled. “It will not be my fault. You know what people say, that my beauty can charm any men.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlot huffed, recomposing herself. “Where is father anyway, Sister Margaux?”

“He is with Brother Vougeot in the conference hall,” Margaux replied. “They are in the middle of some assembly, but I doubt it is as important as his daughter’s future happiness.”

Merlot thanked her older sister and went down the corridors, in search of her father. Margaux headed in the opposite direction, to the guest chamber, wanting to meet the mysterious man that her little sister might actually love.

Merlot found her father and older brother in the conference hall, in the middle of an audience with his advisers. King Montrachet promptly frowned upon seeing his second daughter. “Where were you yesterday night, and this morning?” Montrachet questioned, his tone harsher than intended due to frustration. “Prince Arthropod of Suzukii Kingdom is irked by your blatant disrespect!”

Merlot was annoyed. “The one time I agreed to luncheon with him, that asshole tried to feel up my thigh under the table!” Merlot growled. “I don’t like him and everybody knows this. I cannot understand why you are so fixated on that cad, when there is clearly a better option.”

“Is that what you have been doing all this week?” Montrachet heatedly accused. “I will not tolerate any commoner swain having a romantic tryst with my daughter behind my back.”

“Well, why don’t you meet him first, before jumping to baseless allegations?” Merlot crossed her arms in indignation. “He is of noble birth, from a kingdom even more influential than ours, and he came to our country bearing your personal blessing.”

King Montrachet was taken aback by this, for he had no recollection of such a person presented on his esteemed guest list. “Who is this man that you spoke so highly of, my daughter?”

Merlot took a deep breath, bracing herself. “He is Prince Charlotte Raisin, from Tottoland, one of the most wealthy kingdom in the world.”

Montrachet’s mouth dropped open, but it was his son who reacted first, by letting out an undignified hysterical shriek. “You’ve been fraternizing with an Emperor’s son?!” Vougeot screamed.

“W-Where is he now?” Montrachet bellowed.

“... I left him in the guest chamber,” Merlot replied, her optimism quickly crumbling into distraught. She didn’t understand why her family was overreacting in this manner. “This is ridiculous. You are the one who invited him here, to the ball.”

Montrachet rubbed his brows. “Why would I ever invite a known criminal to our social gathering, dear daughter?”

Merlot widened her eyes in shock, speechless.

Vougeot didn’t have time for this, his navy training kicking in. “Father, get your personal guards here and inform the marines that there is a wanted personnel on the premises,” Vougeot said, already unholstering his gun. “I am going to teach that hooligan a lesson.”

Vougeot stormed out of the conference hall. Merlot chased after her brother with shorter strides, her floor-length satin gown hindering her movement, that she only managed to catch up to her brother just as he threw open the guest chamber doors. Merlot wanted to at least pacify his anger, so that situation wouldn’t escalate further into disaster—

—Margaux coughed, a katana piercing through the chest, and her beautiful butterfly wings fluttered weakly one last time. Vougeot and Merlot were by the doorway, unable to fully comprehend what had just occurred. Raisin pushed the woman’s body off his blade, stepping back so that the steady stream of blood pooling onto the ceramic tiles would not stain his expensive suit, and gave his unexpected spectators a gracious smile.

“W-What?” Merlot stared at her sister on the floor, face pale, emotion caught in a trance between despair and denial.

Margaux’s rainbow wings were fragmenting to dust, such fragile things. Raisin cradled the fruit bouquet he brought in his right arm like a treasured trophy, among the assortment of garnet red was a single strawberry that turned chalky white. Leaves curled, swirls morphing into very distinctive patterns. ‘Fairy Princess’ Margaux was dead.

“How dare you?!” Vougeot screamed, pulling the trigger with all the intention to rain vengeance upon his sister’s murderer.

Raisin’s unsheathed sword was still held in the left hand, and he deflected those lead bullets with an air of elegant grace. “Commodore Vougeot, I am a little above your current pay grade,” Raisin stated calmly, swinging his blade in slow motion into a half circle, the afterimage forming a vivid orangish vermilion hue the shape of crescent moon.

Vougeot didn’t even see that young man attack, when his right arm was suddenly torn off. Raisin’s sword slash condensed into a colored laser blast. “Regen Anstrich, Rossa Arancia,” he said quietly, naming his technique.

The prince of Romanee-Conti howled in agony, clutching at the bleeding stump above his elbow. Raisin took a couple steps in that general direction and Vougeot stiffened in fear, but the Charlotte son ignored the two remaining Domaine siblings as he headed for the open window down the corridor, his blade already returned into the scabbard fastened on the right side of his waist. It would not be long before marine soldiers swarm the area, thus crucial for Raisin to rendezvous with his family asap. At the moment, he was alone within hostile territory, and at risk of capture.

“... why?” Merlot whispered, voice hoarse. She reached out, subconsciously, to grasp at Raisin’s sleeve as he was walking past.

Raisin sighed...

... and backhanded her across the face.

.

Most Charlotte children dressed like circus troupe from childhood fantasy, because that was what they enjoyed, but never the bride and groom presented to lure in their preys. How lucky, those oblivious victims all thought, to be desired by someone so lovely from a family of aberrant psychopaths. It made them feel special, as was the calculated design, ignorant of the fact that their Charlotte lovers were mere performers on a mock stage in deliberately chosen costumes. Irony that it never occurred to them, these beautiful bisque dolls might not be right in the head either, just like everyone else in the Charlotte household.

Hilarious as well, that people honestly believed Mama would ever offer the hand of her most prized children, in exchange for relatively unimportant failures that were disposable diplomatic pawns.

In the past, it took an army to topple a grandiose kingdom. Now, all it required was one person.

Raisin told Merlot his family was vile and horrible, that his mother was an overtly demanding monster who criticized his every single tiny flaw. The best deception was when everything he said were true in a technical sense, his family was dysfunctional and Mama was every bit the control freak he claimed. Raisin told Merlot he was changed for the better, just for her, because that was what they all wanted to hear. Of course it would inevitably conclude this way, with Merlot on the ground, eyes watery and a stinging cheek.

“Stop being pathetic,” Raisin said, rehearsed dialogue falling from his tongue, a recorder on playback. He pulled away like the marionette he was by the string.

Without ‘Fairy Princess’ to boost grape production, it would be impossible for Romanee-Conti Kingdom to meet their export demands. In estimated two or three years, this country would exhaust their funds into paying heavenly tribute to Mariejois, and with it protection offered by the World Government. By then, this country would be ripe for the taking, and their much coveted vineyard would soon be another checkmark on the list. They could build a factory at that spacious palace courtyard to make raspberry prosecco jelly and champagne truffles, Mama would surely appreciate that.

Merlot was crying.

Raisin scowled, but quickly smoothed his features, to make sure there was no crack on his mask. He pocketed the pallid devil fruit and placed the rest of that bouquet on the floor next the princess, before walking away. “I have a few unmarried brothers Mama deemed suitable to take a spouse. Let King Domaine Montrachet know Tottoland will accept a marriage alliance, once Romanee-Conti Kingdom broke ties with the World Government.”

Merlot sobbed harder. “You said you love me. Is everything a lie?”

Raisin paused by the door. “You know, funny thing is, an absolute failure like you honestly thought that someone like myself would ever look at you twice,” Raisin said, twisting the proverbial knife in deeper with his practiced dazzling smile. “You are worthless to me now. So tell me, why are women like you always this fucking entitled?”

“You’re a monster,” Merlot whispered, with tears dripping down her face, only now recognizing the Charlotte son for who he truly was. “You have no heart.”

Raisin said nothing, turning away.

Domaine Merlot could not love a man who struck her across the face and pelleted her with merciless verbal abuse. A man who ruthlessly murdered her sister, crippled her brother, threatened her father, and pushed her country to the brink of financial collapse and civil war. Understandable.

Raisin soared through the sky in a radiant beam of yellow light. Regen Anstrich, Gialla, an unique skill invented by modifying ‘Moonwalk’ into streamline swordsmanship. He landed on the deck of _Queen Mama Chanter_ , anchored a kilometer away from isle mainland. Panna and ‘Newji’ were waiting for him upon the cake frosting quarterdeck.

Raisin knew that boy was actually Newsan though, from the pleasant smile and the floribunda rose pin on his breast pocket. Newsan was a romantic poet and adored women’s attention. He had the habit of swapping himself in when his identical brothers fail to woo their designated targets, since Newji still had problems hiding his savage nature and Newshi was always too serious, being the most common offenders that rely on their brother’s flair.

“Congratulations on breaking a hundred million bounty, Brother Raisin,” the decuplet son chuckled, throwing over the morning edition newspaper. “You just made yourself one of the most hated men in the world, for murdering one of the most beautiful women in the world!”

“That was fast,” Raisin said, brushing a lint from his suit lapel. “It hasn’t even been two hours, and here I was, expecting to make it into evening news.”

“What can I say, they despise you.”

“Hazard of the job.”

Panna poked her older brother mischievously on the shoulder. “You seemed unhappy, Brother Raisin,” Panna said. “What did she call you this time? Wait, let me guess. Monster, demon, inhuman fiend?”

Raisin huffed, his forearms folded to lean on the ship railing. “Something like that. They are all the same, nothing I haven’t heard a thousand times before.”

“You know how the proverb goes, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?” Panna said playfully. “You are the worst type of men, dear brother.”

Raisin gave her a side glance. “And you are the worst type of women, dear sister.”

Panna laughed. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Anytime,” Raisin smirked. “But enough of that, I have something else to show you two, a fortuitous acquisition I’ve obtained during this endeavor.”

“What is it?” Panna asked.

Raisin picked up the bleached strawberry. “A devil fruit, bug zoan,” he said. “I’m not going to eat this myself, so if either of you are interested, welcome to be my guest.”

Newsan perked up upon hearing that. “What model is it?” Newsan asked eagerly.

“Butterfly,” Raisin replied. “Still interested?”

Newsan’s face fell in utter disappointment. “I was hoping for ant or centipede...”

Panna blinked at her younger brother. “That is sooo out of character for you, Newsa—I mean, Newji.”

“I have my reasons,” Newsan pouted.

“What about you, Panna?” Raisin asked. “This can potentially complement your combat style.”

Panna mulled over it, before ultimately shaking her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m going to decline,” Panna said, deftly balancing to sit atop the balustrade next to her brother. “I just thought of a better idea. Normande’s seventh birthday is coming up soon, maybe you can proffer it to her?”

Raisin considered. “True that dwarves work great with bug zoans, I’ll ask her.”

The Charlotte siblings chatted as the magnificent main sails of _Queen Mama Chanter_ unfurled, red and pink, proudly flourishing the Big Mom Pirates jolly roger. Raisin’s long platinum hair caught in the wind, and Panna produced a peacock blue scrunchy that matched her brother’s velvet cape. “Thank you,” Raisin said, tying up his hair.

Newsan hung on to the roped net stretching from the side of their vessel, dangling above his older siblings, and watched that faraway island disappear from view. They would return in a few short years, to clean up the mess they intentionally caused and reap what they sowed, but now they were heading back, to the only paradise they would call home.

A couple crew members paused on their busywork around deck, men and women alike, sneaking in a few extra seconds to admire the picturesque scene. Those Charlotte children made such an aesthetically pleasing sight.

Gorgeous at a distance, deadly when approached.

Stylized mannequins on display.

.

The secret to charm these beautiful bisque dolls was actually very simple, but oh so difficult.

Charlotte Raisin and Charlotte Panna had yet to meet any woman or man, that could love them for who they really were, after they revealed their true nature by dragging those poor souls through hellfire brimstone and despair. To truly love a monster was so terribly difficult. It had nothing to do with their outward appearances, and everything to do with the insidious shade of their hearts, taught to be sadistic and remorselessly cruel.

Vinsmoke Sanji was the strange one, in a million, to break this tragic Charlotte curse. After Pudding shot his sister and baited his friends into an inescapable book prison, crushing his last shimmering ray of hope and leaving him a pathetic heartbroken mess sobbing in the rain, the first honest words Sanji said to Charlotte Pudding was miraculously not a condemning insult, but...

“You are beautiful.”

(... and he truly meant _I would still love you_ ).

.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte/OC, when the Charlotte boy is attractive and courteous. They would not be the gentlemen often fantasized in ideal romance. Similar to how Pudding was taught to be the worst type of women in canon, handsome Charlotte boys would be the worst type of men. Their affection can only be earned, by someone who could still love a monster after suffering through despair at their hands.
> 
> Raisin’s technique means “rainbow paint” follow by colors, based on that strange flying move he did in anime, keeping up with BM Pirates fairytale theme.
> 
> .
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. It meant A LOT to me, and served as great motivation. This fic is now completed!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally intended as later chapters for the first story **As a Charlotte Child** , but I felt thematically they would not flow well together, so I separated them. **As a Charlotte Child** recounted the earlier years of the older children in chronological order, while **Family Album** would be independent stories centered around the younger children.


End file.
